Transcending the Dark
by jellylegs-88
Summary: After the events of fifth year Harry is forced into the heart of the war. Seeking retribution and salvation, can Harry find the strength to transcend the dark? rating may go up to M
1. Summer Pains

**Transcending the Dark **

After the events of fifth year Harry is forced into the heart of the war. Seeking retribution and salvation, can Harry find the strength to transcend the dark?

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the creator and owner of all characters and settings in her Harry Potter series. All other characters and settings mentioned in the following story are mine.

Chapter One 

**Summer Pains**

Harry awoke drenched in cold sweat. His sheets were tangled around his limbs and he gasped out loud trying to wrench himself free of his bindings. Panting hard he tore the covers away from his sweat soaked body and leaned over the bed, willing himself not to vomit. His scar, which had been tingling all day, was now burning as though someone had pressed a white-hot brand to his forehead. Fighting against the pain, he pressed all memories of the latest Voldemort induced vision, far from his mind. _Don't think about the Death-Eaters murdering that family. Don't think about how the mother had red hair like your own mother. Don't think about the begging, the torture, the death . . ._

Hatred coursed through his body. Voldemort had no right to decide who should live and who should die! No one did. He clenched his jaw remembering the screaming and pleading, remembered the little red haired girl crying as her mother hid her in the tiny hidden room behind the fireplace. Remembered tiny hands clutching her mothers as the woman gave her daughter the last kiss she would ever give her . . .

_They will be avenged._ He swore, his hands curling into fists. _Their murderers will not go unpunished. A reckoning is coming and justice will be served . . ._

Slipping out of his bed he walked silently to the window and swung it open. Looking out into the darkness of the night he breathed in the cool air. He felt trapped, suffocated by the vision. He had to get out. He longed to run. Run harder and faster then he ever had before. Run far away and escape this cursed existence. Escape his life, his destiny. Harry sighed. Fat chance of that happening. Especially now that he knew about the prophecy. He glared at the starry night sky before turning away from the window.

His eyes settled on a stack of letters on his bedside table. Harry gritted his teeth as he stared at Hermiones last letter. '_ . . . I know that you want to talk about what happened to Snuffles that night. As soon as you get back to headquarters, we'll talk about it . . ._' Harry gave a small growl. The _last_ thing he wanted to talk about was how he was responsible for his godfather's death! He balled his hands into fists. '_Don't think about that. Don't think about that. Don't think about that._'

But he could not stop the overwhelming sense of entrapment that at this moment swept over him. He had to get out of this house, if only for a few hours. Listening hard for any signs of movement outside Harry sighed when he heard a soft crunch of gravel in the driveway. The Order had been keeping an eye on him all summer. The past month had been an absolute nightmare. He was under constant supervision 24 hours a day everyday. There were usually two guards and they worked in four-hour shifts. One pair would start at six and would be relieved of guard duty at ten by a second pair and so on. Harry was allowed no contact with them whatsoever. This had thoroughly pissed Harry off. It was bad enough being stuck at Privet Drive for the summer, let alone being watched by invisible Order members all day and all night. He had absolutely no privacy, which of course added to his trapped feelings.

Hearing soft voices coming from outside his window he went still. Silently he crept to the window, listening hard.

" . . . another attack last night." Said a female voice that Harry found slightly familiar. "In London. Three families killed. The Hoppins, the Glousberries and the Ispis'. Not to mention most of the muggle neighbours. I think the count was forty-three dead and sixteen injured. And three Muggles received the Kiss. Muggles can't even see the Dementors, let alone defend themselves from them!"

"It's disgusting." A mans voice growled, Harry recognized as Kingsley Shaklebolt. "Ever since the Ministry finally let the public know about the Dark Lords return, You-Know-Who has really come out with wands blazing. That must have been the eighth attack since the Ministry of Magic that night . . ."

"Dumbledore knows something." Came the witch's whisper.

"How can you be sure? Dumbledore would have said if something was going to happen." Came Kingsleys strained whisper.

"He knows. Or he at least suspects. You-Know-Who is up to something and Merlin have pity if He chooses to act now, while the Ministry's still reeling from the news that He has returned. And Dumbledore is definitely worried about something. I just hope he knows what he's doing."

Harry frowned, as the night was silent again. That was the most information he had received all summer and he had to hear it by skulking in the shadows. Hadn't Dumbledore figured out that it was a really bad idea to keep Harry in the dark about these things? People died when Harry made mistakes. He needed to know what was going on!

He slid down the wall pondering what he had just heard. So Voldemort was stepping up with the war. Definitely not good. And Dumbledore knew something is going to happen soon. And he was worried enough that the others in the Order were beginning to notice something. Dumbledore never let anyone know what was going on behind that damn twinkle of his. This had to be serious . . .

He balled his hands into fists and scowled at the wall. It had been like this for three weeks now. No news but the tiny snatches of conversation he managed to overhear his guards muttering about, mostly over what they were having for dinner when they got off their shift.

The Daily Prophet had been less then helpful. It was full of nothing but people claiming to have fought for their souls in deadly Dementor attacks, while stupefying Death-Eaters at a mere glance and juggling a bus full of muggle schoolchildren whose lives they had just saved. The only thing Harry found even remotely interesting and very amusing, were Fudges attempts to stay in office.

The pompous old windbag had been charging into 'suspected Death-Eater' households with a full SWAT team of aurors, each time only to discover a perfectly normal family about to sit down to dinner. There had been eleven of these 'arrests', two of which had been on muggle families who had never even heard of Voldemort, Hogwarts, or the magical world in general, and one which had been on Amelia Bones' cat, whom Fudge was sure was an animagus sent to spy on the ministry official.

The cat, Mr Tiddlewinks, had been in an auror holding cell for four days before finally being released back into Madam Bones' care after no one could find anything remotely suspicious about the animal. Mr Tiddlewinks was still under close observation by the Ministers orders.

Harry was severely doubtful that Fudge would stay in power much longer. If it had been up to him, the Minister would have been thrown out of office the moment Voldemorts return had been made public. He also knew he wasn't the only one that thought so. The public were outraged by Fudges actions, or lack of, regarding Voldemort and His return. There was not much they could do to get rid of him though, as Fudges term as Minister could only end in three years time when the next election would determine the next Minister of Britains Ministry of Magic. It was basically impossible for their deranged Minister to be booted until then. Wizarding Law prohibited it.

Harry winced as he felt a slight pain twinge his scar. It had been affecting him all summer, sometimes only twinging while at others Harry would wake up screaming from the pain. The next day the Daily Prophet would be full of news on Voldemorts latest massacre. Harry of course, would already have known much of the details from glimpses of torture and death in his dreams. The visions had become more frequent since the beginning of the holidays so Harry had thrown himself into his Occlumency. He had been slowly building up a state of complete blissful nothingness in his mind that he could throw up at a moments notice.

That was the first step. The next was for Harry to make up a fake wall of thoughts and memories, to make any intruders believe that nothing else lay past Harry's thoughts about the last Potions exam or a memory of playing Quidditch at Hogwarts. It was designed to show the intruder harmless images that Harry had placed as a wall around his true subconscious. While the memories had to be convincing Harry was having trouble selecting the ones that would cause the least harm, if someone broke into his thoughts. After this wall of harmless memories Harry would have to make a mental shield to make it appear that he was trying to protect these memories.

If, by some miracle, an intruder broke through his outer shield, his wall of memories, and a stronger shield enforced behind these thoughts, Harry would simply slip into his 'dream state' where he would simply wipe all thought and memory from his mind. The only way anyone could break through that was to force Harry to think, opening a door into his mind where the thought flowed from and allowing them to force there way in.

Harry checked his watch. It was a few minutes until two o'clock, when the guards would change over. Thinking fast Harry made up his mind. He had to get out. He'd been cooped up long enough. Swiftly and silently he moved to the dresser and pulled out a pair of pants and a t-shirt. He had taken to sleeping in only his boxers, as the heat this summer was almost as bad as the last. He slipped a dark t-shirt over his head and pulled on his trainers, lacing them up quickly. Snatching his wand from the bedside table he snuck back over to the window. The two guards were moving around to the side of the house, ready to change shifts away from prying muggle eyes. As soon as Harry was sure they were out of earshot, he shoved his wand into the waistband of his jeans and grabbed his jacket from the floor where it lay in a crumpled heap.

Swinging one leg out of the window, he wrapped the jacket around the drainpipe. Swinging the rest of his body out the window, he used the drainpipe to slide to the ground. Quickly unwinding his jacket, he crouched low amongst the bushes, waiting. As soon as the cracks of the fresh guards sounded throughout the yard he bent low and ran, feet moving silently over the ground. Reaching the fence of number two, he threw himself to the ground behind their well-trimmed hedge and went completely still, waiting for any sign that his guards had heard him.

There was a low murmur of the four adults voices relaying information and then the cracks of Kingsley and the woman disapperating. Harry smirked. That was much easier then the last few times he had snuck out. It was a little disconcerting that he had been managing to outwit his guards so easily. What would have happened if he had been a Death-Eater instead? Harry frowned and shook off these troubling thoughts, shrugging on his jacket he started to walk away from Privet Drive.

His feet automatically went into autopilot; he had spent so much time pounding the pavement these past few weeks they seemed to simply know where he wanted to go. He avoided the alleyway where the Dementors had attacked him last year, as well as the alleyway where he had first seen Sirius in dog form. _Oh god, Sirius. I'm so sorry. But I swear I'll find justice. For you, for Mum and Dad, for Cedric, for the little girl left crying behind the fireplace . . . And for me. _

Harry could deny it to himself no longer. He wanted revenge. He thirsted for it. It was all that made him wake each day. Voldemort would not take from him another person he loved. He would die before letting that happen. His hands were already red with innocent blood. He would make sure to add the blood of the guilty before he faced his death.

Harry swiftly vaulted over the park fence and headed for the swing set. Despite the park being repaired during the previous year, with Dudley and his gang's return it had gone back to the derelict state it had been in last summer. Harry sat down on one of the remaining swings and wound the chain around his arm. The soft moonlight played down on his face and Harry closed his eyes letting the warm and silent night wash over him.

This was peace. There was no war, no Voldemort, no prophecy. Harry felt out with his magic expanding his awareness, letting the night fill his being. One of Mrs Figgs cats was slinking through the bushes following the trail of a mouse. He knew without seeing it that a dog lay curled under one of the bushes, snoring in a dog way. Harry breathed in deeply letting the woody, clean smell of the park fill his lungs. The wind stirred making the branches of the trees sway in the breeze that now filled the once calm night and kissed his cheeks.

There was another six weeks until school started again. Harry wasn't sure if he was happy to be going back to the wizarding world or not. The wizarding world was the home of everything he lived for, yet at the same time he despised it with every part of his being. Sure there he had friends, a home, family even. But at the same time there were dark lords, reporters and everyone looking for him to save the world time, after time, after time.

Harry had survived the last few weeks by going from one extreme mood to the other. At times his depression was so low he found himself contemplating death. At others he found the smallest things so wonderfully beautiful and full of life that he would be horrified that his thoughts could ever turn to death by his own hand.

How long Harry stayed there he didn't know, but the stars were beginning to wink out by the time he realised he should return soon. Slowly he unwound himself from the swing and silently made his way through the dark shadows towards Privet Drive. He cursed to himself as he crouched beneath the bushes of number two. The guards were in the driveway. He could hear the soft crunch of gravel as they shifted their weight and quiet breathing. Getting out had been easy. It was just getting back in that was going to be a problem.

Frowning Harry stayed still as a statue trying to find a way out of this dilemma. He nearly jumped a mile when something warm wound itself around his ankles. Looking down he saw one of Mrs Figg's ginger cats purring contently and rubbing its head against Harry's knee. Smirking evilly, Harry had an idea. Picking the cat up gently, he crept over to the metal dustbins in front of number two and took the lid off. Smiling apologetically at the cat, he dumped it unceremoniously into the bin and slammed the lid back on before ducking into the bushes again.

The cat's reaction was instantaneous. It yowled and the garbage can began banging noisily as the trapped feline went absolutely crazed trying to free itself. The guards were at the scene almost instantly.

"What in the name of Hades is it?" hissed a male voice.

"How should I know!?" a woman answered angrily. "Maybe you should check what's in it? It's gonna wake all the Muggles!"

"I ain't opening it!" came the man's panicky voice. "You open it!"

Harry chuckled to himself and crept past his now occupied guards.

"_Fine_!" hissed the woman and opened the lid. That was a mistake. The furious feline launched itself at her. Harry turned around at her shriek. He had to force himself to subdue his laughter at the sight of the cat latched on the place where he supposed the woman's head would be. It was rather funny watching the cat claw and tear at seemingly thin air. The woman was screeching and by the sounds of things the man had caught a few of the cats swipes as he tried to wrestle the animal off of his companion, bellowing loudly.

Chuckling to himself he nimbly climbed up the drainpipe and swung a leg into his window. Looking back with a grin, he watched as the cat was torn away from its prey and hissing wildly disappeared into the dark. Feeling decidedly more cheerful then when he had first woke he climbed back into his window and slunk back to his bed for a few hours sleep until he would have to get up.

Remus sat in the darkness of the kitchen in number twelve Grimmauld Place, hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had long since gone cold. Warm brown eyes surveyed the mug sadly and he sighed.

He did not want to be here. Not here where only a few months ago Sirius had walked this houses hallways, sat in its chairs, eaten at this table. Remus swallowed hard, pushing down the feelings of grief and despair that threatened to engulf him. He could not let himself succumb to these feelings while there was work to be done. The war was finally out in the open. Voldemort had begun to step up the offensive and people had started dying. Both wizard and muggle alike. And so with the enemy's ranks expanding, so to had the Order of the Phoenix expanded. The old house was constantly filled with people, mostly the Weasleys and the rest of the Orders children. A private moment was hard to find these days, especially for grieving. In the eyes of the Order there was no time for remembering the deaths that had already begun to plague them. There would be more then enough time for grief when the war was over or when you were dead. Whichever one came first.

Suddenly and without warning he swept himself to his feet and flung the mug from him violently. It hit the wall and shattered in a shower of porcelain and cold tea. Feeling more satisfied then before Remus smiled grimly, flicking his wand at the mess that dripped down the wall and covered the floor, making it disappear instantly.

More then anything Remus wanted to talk to Harry. He was probably the only other person hurting as much as he was over Sirius' death.

Harry. Remus was worried about him. The teenagers few letters had been short and irritable to practically everyone. No-one had been spared when Harry had sent several angry letters, telling people to either give him some more information about what was going on, or else they could all just stick their letters full of unhelpful hints and unwanted sympathy . . . somewhere rather distasteful. Remus had laughed himself stupid over the looks on some of the Order member's faces when they had received Harry's letters just over two weeks ago. He doubted any of them had thought of Harry as anything other then a poster child for the war, let alone entertained the thought that he was fighting Voldemort just as hard as any of them were. Maybe more.

A small grin graced his face as he thought back to the last few Order meetings. Harry's guards had been berated for not once but twice having Harry slip out of their sight and protection. Both times the teenager had climbed out of his window and slid down the drainpipe unnoticed by his Bodyguards. Remus supposed he should feel some sort of anger or disappointment with Harry's intentional aversion of his guards, but found he felt only a satisfying pride that his cub was able to outwit first one then two fully trained aurors.

Dumbledore had almost done his nut when first Mundungus, then Digglesby and Heathley had reported that they had lost the teenager on two occasions, one of which Harry had taken a muggle taxi to London for the day as he was bored and wanted to go shopping. The second time had been in the middle of the night and Harry had gone for a stroll at two o'clock in the morning and did not return until noon. He'd refused to say anything to his guards about where he had been, saying simply that he was not allowed any contact with his guards so he certainly shouldn't be speaking to them in broad daylight.

Dumbledore thought this to be deadly serious. If it was this easy for a teenaged boy to get in and out of the premises with fully trained aurors standing guard, how easily could a death-eater or assassin get in? Dumbledore had been run-ragged for the past several weeks. The magical community were in disarray. The Minister had turned out to be a nutter that arrested cats, attacks were beginning to occur all over the country and people were dying. Voldemort was in hiding and directing his side of the war holed up in one of his many hiding places all over the world, and the entire wizarding world were looking to Dumbledore for a solution.

His ears pricked up as he heard footsteps coming from upstairs. Two voices were arguing angrily.

"And could you have taken any longer getting that mad beast off of me!" screeched Helga as she burst into the kitchen followed by Mundungus. "Our cover was almost blown!"

"Oy, ya can't blame a man for being cautious, can ya?" yelled Dung as he limped over to the sink and pulled a bottle of fire whisky out from underneath. Standing up again he took a long swig before continuing. "Coulda been a Death-Eater for all we knew!"

"Oh that's so much better isn't it?" hissed Helga as she poked Dung in the chest in an accusatory fashion. "_So_ much better that you let me open the damn thing in the first place! Considering that it might have been a Death-Eater rather then one of Arabella's mad cats!"

Remus snorted bringing himself to the two newcomers attention. The werewolf smirked at their surprised faces. Helga's face and neck were covered in scratches, as were Dungs arms.

"Run into some trouble on duty?" he asked innocently. They both scowled at him making him snort with laughter again. Becoming serious again he looked at Helga. "Did you see Harry?"

Helgas face softened to a sympathetic smile. "Not tonight Remus. All we saw all night was a mongrel cat that tried to kill us." She frowned. "How the hell would that cat have gotten into a dustbin in the first place?"

"What the hell do ya care for?" growled Dung before he poured fire whisky over the scratches on his arms. He swore loudly and rather creatively making both Remus and Helga wince in sympathy.

"Why don't you just get Poppy to take a look at those Dung?" asked Remus. "Her method would be a lot less painful then _that_."

Dung growled something about nurses not being worth trusting and limped out of the room as he wrapped a bandage around his forearm. Remus shared a glance with Helga and shook his head wearily.

"Are you alright Remus?" asked Helga as she sat down, frowning in concern.

Remus rubbed his eyes tiredly and sighed. "No I'm not . . . but I will be. One day . . ."

Helga placed a hand over his and smiled in comfort. They sat in silence until the first sounds of movement above them signalled that the occupants of the house were waking and the new day had begun.

Harry felt along in the darkness of the garden shed, grumbling about useless relatives under his breath. He ducked under a large spiders web, not wanting to destroy the work the tiny creature had put into it, and finally found the shovel. The Dursley's were heaping on the slave labour this summer. The garden of number four had taken a nosedive during the drought the previous summer and so Uncle Vernon had decided to remodel the entire yard. Front and back. He had spent insane amounts of money on plants, pavers and trees. Even a small fishpond for the back garden. Of course it wasn't Uncle Vernon doing the physical work. No that was Harry's job. A way to 'pay the Dursleys back somewhat, for forcing them to keep him over the summer'. All Uncle Vernon did was bark orders at him from the shade of the porch as he sipped a glass of lemonade.

Harry grabbed the shovel and ducked back out of the shed, making sure to stay clear of the spider's web. Thankfully his Uncle was working today, so Harry didn't have to listen to his constant demanding orders about how the roses had to be placed _exactly_ sixteen inches away from the new path Harry had slaved over last week, so they would have full advantage of the afternoon sunlight. Harry walked nimbly over to the large area Uncle Vernon had roped off the previous week for the fishpond to be placed. Luckily it had rained a little over the past few days, breaking the drought and the earth was still soft. Sighing to himself he dug the shovel into the soil and begun his work for the day.

Harry was somewhat grateful for all the extra work. He had sped through all his summer homework during the first week of holidays and was rereading all of his Quidditch books each night as he lay in bed. Anything to keep his mind off of what had happened that night. What he had found out about himself, his destiny. And Sirius falling through the veil . . . Harry dug harder forcing all thought from his head.

It was well past midday when Harry had finished. He walked into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. Aunt Petunia gave him a disapproving look as she added milk to her tea. "Make sure you shower before Vernon gets home," she ordered as she took a sip of tea, crinkling her nose at Harry's sweat soaked shirt and muddy sneakers. "He won't approve of the state you're in."

Harry took another gulp of water. "Yes, Aunt Petunia." He said, knowing full well that going along with the Dursleys was the only way to avoid a shouting match. He took another gulp of water before placing the empty bottle in the trash and walking upstairs. He would have had to shower anyway. He was going over to Mrs. Figgs that evening, and he was pretty sure she wouldn't let him in the front door if he turned up like _this_.

After a good twenty minutes under hot water, Harry pulled on a black t-shirt, an old pair of jeans and his sneakers. Grabbing a hooded jacket from the back of his desk chair he shrugged that on too. Pausing for a moment he stopped and opened a drawer at his desk. He pulled out an object swathed in velvet. Slowly unwrapping it he pulled a silver dagger from the folds of the material. An emerald was set in the hilt and the blade was sheathed in a leather scabbard. He strapped the sheath to his left forearm and covered it with his jacket sleeve. Harry had purchased the weapon last time he had been to London on a late night shopping spree. It couldn't hurt to have an extra trick up his sleeve.

Finally tucking his wand into the waistband of his jeans he ran a hand through his hair and headed out the door, pausing to dump his dirty clothes in the washing hamper before going downstairs. He passed Dudley on the way down. He wore a thick black leather jacket and had a motorbike magazine tucked under his arm. He eyed Harry warily as they passed but said nothing. Dudley's birthday had been a few weeks before and his parents had gotten him a big black motorcycle. Dudley now spent his free time revving up and down the street at odd hours and running down animals and small children.

Harry spent the remainder of the afternoon helping his Aunt with the chores around the house. Finally five o'clock rolled around and Uncle Vernon strolled in the front door, humming merrily and swinging his briefcase.

"Don't worry about dinner tonight Petunia!" he announced with a smug smirk. "I've just closed a huge deal with Harkins's Hardware. We're going out to celebrate! Not you." He added glaring at Harry. Turning back to Aunt Petunia he went on about the three other drill companies he'd beaten to win the deal with Harkins. Aunt Petunia was clapping her hands excitedly and gave Uncle Vernon a kiss on the cheek before announcing that she was going upstairs to get ready. Harry rolled his eyes. Uncle Vernon turned to him, glaring. "Now you, you are not to do any of your funny business while we're out. If I come home and – and find the house crawling with owls or – or flying cars _anywhere_ near this area, I don't care what those freaks said, I'm chucking you out! Do you understand?"

Harry sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, Uncle Vernon."

The beefy man nodded squinting at him suspiciously. "And do something about your hair!" he hissed before turning and walking upstairs.

It was well after seven by the time the Dursleys finally left for dinner. As soon as their car had gone around the corner Harry was off down the street. He could hear soft footsteps following him and he fought the urge to turn and clobber the invisible guy who was tailing him. He quickened his step and turned quickly into an alley, vaulting over the fence at the end. He smirked evilly as he heard whoever was following him swear and try to heave themselves over the high fence.

He finally reached number fourteen Wisteria Walk and opened the tiny gate to the white picket fence surrounding the garden. Walking up the garden path he felt something warm and furry wind itself around his ankles. Looking down he spotted a ginger coloured fur ball rubbing its head against him. He smiled. "Forgiven me have you?" It responded by curling itself around his legs again. He bent down to pick it up and scratched behind the animal's ears as it purred contently. Reaching the door he rang the bell.

Arabella took the boiling kettle off the stove and poured steaming water into the two teacups placed in front of her. The Potter boy would be here any minute. He had been coming to visit several times a week to see if she had any information from Dumbledore and to chat. He had even helped clean out the attic the other day when the Dursleys had been out. Arabella frowned. She was worried about him. Harry hadn't seemed to slow down at all these days. He went from one chore to the next and then asked for more. She had seen him jogging every evening and from the looks of things he wasn't exactly slacking off at the Dursleys. She doubted he had time to think, with the yard work, his Aunts errands and chores, and then his own efforts to keep himself busy.

She had heard what had happened at the Department of Mysteries of course. Sirius' death must have hit him hard for him to be obsessing over keeping busy like this. Most summers he would lock himself inside his room and only come out when it was absolutely necessary. This summer however had seen him running all over town on errands for his Aunt. To the locals, whom had thought 'the Potter boy' to have dropped off the face of the planet after his eleventh birthday, many found his presence alarming. He was after all, a hardened delinquent whom attended St. Brutus'. That fact alone had people gossiping over him. He was followed every time he set foot into a shop in case St Brutus' hadn't straightened him out and he decided to knick something. Arabella smiled. The girls of Little Whinging however seemed not to care whether Harry was a hooligan or not. She had been standing in line at the Supermarket the other day when Harry entered the store to get something for Petunia. A group of teenaged girls behind her had gone dead quiet, as he had passed giving a small smile to Arabella. As soon as he was out of earshot they had exploded with low whispers and giggles.

"That boy is _fine_!"

"Those dreamy eyes. I could just stare at his eyes all day. He's just so _soulful_ . . ."

"How could he be related to _anyone_ as ugly as Dudley Dursley? Why does he even live with them anyway?"

"Don't you know? His parents are both dead. Died when he was just a baby."

"Oh I didn't know . . . Look there he is!"

"You know he goes jogging every night past my place. He looks great in sweat."

"Mmmm . . . Isn't he just yummy?"

Arabella watched amused as the group of girls kept their eyes glued to the unsuspecting boy. She had to smother a snort as they all squealed in delight as he had reached for a box of muesli on the top shelf, and his shirt rode up a bit, giving the goggling teenagers a decent view of well defined abdominal muscles.

Arabella shook her head in amusement as she placed the two teacups on the wooden table. At least the boy was finally growing into his looks. He had always been too short and too skinny. Now however, his shoulders had broadened out and he had grown a few more inches. He was still far from being tall but at least now his height didn't resemble that of a ten year old.

The doorbell rang before Arabella heard the sound of the door being opened. "Mrs. Figg? You home?"

Arabella smiled at the boy's voice. Harry had a presence that seemed to ooze comfort and security. You automatically felt safe when he was around. "Of course dear! I'm in the kitchen!"

Harry appeared around the corner cradling one of Arabella's many cats. He placed the fur ball on the floor near the animals' water dish and smiled warmly at her, if not a little tiredly. Arabella stopped herself from doing a double take. Those emerald eyes were much to old for a boy of sixteen. Harry's eyes had always held such depth and emotion, but lately pain and terrible sadness would flit across them for but a split second. It would be gone the moment you tried to take a closer look, and leave you wondering whether you had seen it to begin with. She smiled back at him and placed a tray of assorted biscuits, sugary cakes and other edibles on the table.

"Take a seat dear, you look dead on your feet." She ordered gesturing at a chair as she shoved a grey tabby cat off her chair and took her own seat. He sat down and took his cup of tea from her gratefully. He ran a thumb over the battered china cup and breathed in the scent.

"Has there been any news?" he asked taking a sip. Arabella shook her head despondently. "I'm afraid not," she said trying hard not to smile as the young man before her added a dollop of honey to his tea and stirred it in. "I've had almost as little news as yourself. But I do have something for you. Remus asked if I could forward it along to you."

Harry looked up with interest. Remus? What on earth could Professor Lupin be sending him? He watched as Arabella got up and busied around the kitchen. "Ah here it is," she muttered and turned back to the table placing a small wooden box on the table before him. Harry picked it up, examining it.

It was dark, almost black in colour and fit easily in the palm of his hand. A rose was carved into the lid and runes were engraved on the sides. It was a beautiful thing, which looked both old and expensive. He opened the catch and his lips parted in surprise. It was a silver pendant no larger then a fifty-cent piece hanging from a chain. All around the edges of the disk were tiny runes engraved in the silver. A tiny sword was attached to the disk, running straight through the centre. A snake with tiny sparkling emeralds for eyes was wound around the blade. Harry turned it over and saw words engraved on the back.

_Evil comes in many shades,_

_but love comes in white_

_and transcends the dark._

"What is this?" he murmured out loud.

Arabella smiled softly. "He said it belonged to your mother. Would you like to put it on?"

Harry however was already clasping the chain around his throat. He touched the pendent and frowned, wondering about the meaning of the snake and the sword. Why had his Mother possessed this? What did the runes mean? He would ask Hermione to translate them for him when he saw her next. She had taken Ancient Runes over the past few years.

"Very unusual looking." Commented Arabella as she took another sip of tea. "It seems to suit you though. Remus told me that it has protection spells on it with your mother's magical signature. But he hasn't been able to decipher exactly which protection spells she used, or why. Interesting workmanship though, don't you say?"

Harry nodded, becoming a little uncomfortable as Mrs Figg peered at him from over her cup of tea. He tucked the pendant under his shirt and looked up again. "Do you have the results of the Ireland Vs Brazil match? I bet Seamus five Galleons that Brazil would win is all . . . "

Tonks shivered and pulled her cloak closer to her body. She had started her shift at six o'clock when it had still been relatively warm. Now however a cool wind was blowing and she hadn't thought to wear something warmer. What she wouldn't give right now for a bowl of Molly's hot soup. Mrs Weasley had been cooking as Tonks was leaving and had promised to save her some for when she finished her shift. Mrs Weasley had been a right mother duck with the Order members, fretting about the state of Remus' robes, fussing that Snape never ate enough and always worrying about Tonks' latest accident. She was also the unofficial housekeeper and baby-sitter for Grimmauld Places' dozens of children. It was a good thing the mansion was so big or else they would have found themselves overrun with children long ago.

Tonks checked her watch again. It was nearly nine now. Harry had left the house at seven after the Dursleys had left. Her partner for the night, Martin Malarkey, had followed him telling Tonks to stay put and guard the house. He had then come trudging back half an hour later with a broken ankle after falling off of a large fence that Harry had scaled, in an attempt to follow him. Tonks scowled. He was probably lounging about at headquarters right now, with a bowl of creamy pumpkin soup.

_Stop thinking about food! _Tonks ordered herself. _It just makes it worse._

Suddenly a hand grabbed her shoulder and she spun around whipping out her wand and brandishing it before her. What she saw made her stop dead. She let her arm fall to her side and looked at the figure before her in horror.

"Marcus?"

Harry was helping Mrs Figg clean up the dishes when a frantic banging sounded from the door. He looked up in surprise hand automatically on his wand. Arabella quickly checked through the peephole. "Oh dear lord!" she whispered and flung the door open to let two figures stumble into the room. Harry gaped for a moment before rushing forward to help Tonks haul a bleeding, semiconscious and shirtless man over the threshold.

Arabella cleared the kitchen table of what was left on it and Harry and Tonks gently lowered the man onto the table. "Oh my god, Marcus . . ." whispered Arabella fearfully. Blood was leaking onto the table. She turned to Harry. "Quickly, get some bandages out of the linin closet." Harry nodded and left for the bandages.

Tonks had torn off her cloak and was using it to apply pressure to a jagged slash across his ribs. "Marcus can you hear me? Marcus, wake up please! Come on you're stronger then this! Marcus?" Arabella grabbed a clean cloth from a drawer and began cleaning the blood off his face from a nasty looking cut across his cheekbone. It looked as though his left arm was broken and by the massive yellow bruise on his torso, Arabella bet he had a few broken ribs as well.

Harry returned to the room carrying a bundle of bandages against his chest. Arabella swiftly passed him the bloody cloth and gestured that he continue cleaning the wounds, while she grabbed the bandages and began to wrap them around a wound on his right forearm. Wincing slightly at the extent of the mans injuries Harry gently washed the blood from his chest. The mans eyes flickered open and he grabbed Harry's wrist. "_Is it safe_?" he hissed at him his blue eyes searching Harry's. Harry gaped at him but was saved from answering by Tonks.

"Marcus! What happened? Where have you been? Last we heard you and Jack were in China. Who did this to you?"

"Death-eaters," growled Marcus as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position. "They cornered me in Hong Kong. I made it out. Jack didn't."

"Merlin, Marcus, I'm so sorry." Whispered Tonks as she brushed chestnut coloured hair out of the mans eyes. Harry helped pull him into a sitting position so Mrs Figg could bandage his side.

"Marcus," whispered Tonks tentatively. "Did you find it?" Marcus nodded grimly. "Would you believe it if I told you I bought it from a muggle in a pawn shop for six pounds? The old guy thought it was a paperweight." He gave a hoarse bark of laughter. His good arm strayed down to his waist where his wand was tucked into his pants and a pouch hung from his belt. He pulled the pouch off the belt and undid the drawstring, letting a small box fall into his hand. Writing that looked foreign to Harry was burnt into the dark wood of the box. Marcus pressed a thumb to the top of the box and it snapped open. Wincing slightly he pulled an amulet hanging from a gold chain out of the box. Harry stared at it in wonder. It spun slightly in the dim light of the kitchen and made tiny rainbows dance over the surface of the table. It was made of woven gold with a large black gemstone set into the centre. Harry frowned at the gem. It was unlike anything he had seen before and he was strangely drawn to it. It seemed to absorb the light into its inky blackness rather then reflect it. "The box is merely a trinket," wheezed Marcus as he struggled to breathe. "But the pendant-"

"Is the key . . ." breathed Tonks. Marcus nodded and put it back into its box snapping the lid shut before placing it on the table. "They know I have it." He groaned as he tried to sit up. Sweat was pouring down his face in an effort to keep talking. "They won't take long to track me."

"Then we must get you to headquarters immediately." Said Arabella. "Tonks if you could?"

Tonks muttered a few words pointing her wand at the fireplace before a small fire suddenly blazed in the grate. Arabella turned to Harry. "You must come with us as well Harry. If Death-eaters are coming here-" Harry nodded. "I understand." He said helping Tonks pull Marcus to his feet.

Arabella took Marcus' weight from Harry and she and Tonks helped him towards the fire. "Harry, grab the box will you?" she called over her shoulder as she threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire making the flames emerald green. Harry snatched the box from the table and slipped it inside his jacket.

"Harry, come straight after us, alright?" Ordered Arabella as the three adults stepped into the fireplace. Harry nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"Number twelve Grimmauld Place" said Tonks and they disappeared in a flash of emerald flames. Harry took a deep breath as he took a pinch of Floo powder. Dear Merlin he hated travelling by Floo. He took a step towards the fireplace before stopping dead. Every hair on the back of his neck and his arms were standing on end. He felt his gut clench a split second before a bright red beam of light flashed past him and hit the fireplace. Harry was flung to the ground as an explosion rocked the room, sending rock and chunks of bricks in every direction. He groaned and slowly pulled himself to his feet, coughing from the smoke. Taking a glance around he saw that the fireplace and that entire wall of the house had been destroyed.

He froze as cruel laughter rang out behind him. He knew that laughter. He heard it every night in his dreams as Sirius fell through the veil. He turned to find Bellatrix Lestrange standing in the remains of the doorway, wand in hand and another six Death-eaters behind her.

"Why Potter," she said comically, sounding positively gleeful as she raised her wand straight at Harry's heart. "Fancy seeing you here!"

Well what do you think? Bites nails apprehensively. Click the pretty button at the bottom of the screen and review for me. I'll give u a cookie if u do!

Until next chapter!

jellylegs


	2. Taking Flight

Chapter Two 

**Taking Flight**

"Molly!" yelled Tonks as she stumbled out of the fireplace, only just keeping her balance while supporting the unconscious man. "Molly! We need help!"

A blustering red haired woman entered the room, eyes widening at the sight of the three before her. "Oh sweet mother of Merlin! Marcus! What happened?" she asked Tonks as she began pulling a first aid kit from the cupboard above the kitchen stove.

"He turned up at Privet Drive. He was pretty banged up." She helped Molly hoist him onto the table and lie him down. "They were caught by Death-eaters in Hong Kong. Jack's dead."

"Oh, no not Jack . . ." whispered Molly in horror. Tonks nodded forlornly, her mouth set in a thin line. "Marcus managed to get the pendant back safely. Harry's coming in a moment with it."

"Ginny, I need a hand!" yelled out Molly and a moment later the two youngest Weasleys appeared in the doorway.

"Harry's coming?" asked Ron as he followed Ginny into the kitchen, eyeing Marcus with discomfort.

"Never mind that now!" snapped his mother as she pressed a wet cloth to the injured mans forehead. "Run upstairs and wake Professor Snape. We're going to need a blood restorative draught. Hurry!"

Ron left looking very queasy at the prospect of waking up the Potions Master. Ginny looked at her mother as the teen helped pull off the mans shoes. "Harry's coming here?" she asked her quietly. Molly was cut off from answering by Arabella.

"He should already be here." She frowned and looked at the fireplace. "It's not like him to dawdle . . ."

Ginny wrung the cloth out over a bowl of water, tinging the water red with blood. "Harry doesn't like to Floo. He's had a few bad experiences. Same thing with Port-keys."

The door banged open and Snape strode into the room, robes billowing around him and Ron jogging behind him to keep up. "What has the mangy dog gotten himself into this time?" he snarled as he swept over to the table Marcus was laid out on and pried one of his eyelids open. His fingertips were coated in blood as he pulled away. His nostrils flared in distaste and he wiped his hand on his robe before pulling a small box from his robe. Opening it he selected a vial of potion from the contents within and uncorked it.

Arabella glanced back at the fireplace before nodding resolutely. "I'm going back to check on Harry." She said stepping into the fire and flinging some Floo powder into the flames. "Arabella Figg residence!" she exclaimed.

Nothing happened.

Arabella frowned. "Arabella Figg residence!" she exclaimed again waiting for the telltale rush of emerald flames.

Still nothing.

The others in the room were beginning to look at her rather worriedly. She tried once more. "_Arabella Figg residence!"_

Molly stepped forward. "Try the Floo-Operator Arabella." She said softly, a stricken look crossing her face for a moment.

"What's going on? Where's Harry?" asked Ginny. Nobody answered her.

"Floo-Opperator please." Asked Arabella. A moment passed in silence before a cool feminine voice rang out from the fireplace.

"This is the Floo-Opperator. How may I help you today?"

Arabella cleared her throat. "Could you please tell me why I can't seem to reach the residence of Arabella Figg?"

"One moment please." Soft soothing music began to play, echoing out of the fireplace. The occupants of the kitchen glanced at each other worriedly. A moment later the music was cut off abruptly. "Thankyou for waiting. The fireplace connecting Arabella Figg's residence is no longer in working order as it was destroyed approximately fifteen minutes ago. Thankyou for calling the Floo-Opperator. The Floo-Network wishes you a pleasant evening."

A deathly silence followed this revelation. A white faced Ron was the first to break the silence.

"What's happened to Harry?"

"Why Potter, fancy seeing you here!" jeered Bellatrix in delight as she focused her wand on Harry's heart.

Harry's hand flew to his wand at his waist but froze when the remaining six unfriendly wands were whipped out and pointed straight at him.

"Don't do anything foolish Potter . . ." warned Bellatrix softly, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

Harry dropped his arms to his sides and smiled humourlessly. "Bellatrix." He greeted coldly. "Can't say I'm particularly pleased to see you again so soon."

Bellatrix laughed hoarsely. "I could say the same to you boy. Though I must say it is a surprise to do so. To think that the Dark Lord has been searching so fruitlessly for your whereabouts for weeks, and we simply stumble over you one night." She grinned showing white teeth against pale bloodless lips. She was the only Death-Eater not wearing a white mask over her face.

Harry's eyes darted around quickly searching for an escape route, a way out. The windows of the house had been blasted out when the explosion had rocked the fireplace and the only other exit was the collapsed wall behind Bellatrix and the others.

Bellatrix continued talking a predatory glint in her eye as she surveyed Harry standing before her. "We can do this very easily Potter. Cooperate with us and there will be limited suffering before your death. Choose not to do so . . ." she smirked and cocked her head to one side never taking her cold black eyes from Harry's. " . . .and we can do this in a much more fun and more painful way."

Harry watched her every movement as she stepped forward. "Now let me ask you a few questions." She circled Harry keeping at least three meters away from his body. Harry watched her with his eyes otherwise keeping his body still and focused ahead. She was behind him when he heard her first question. "Where is he?"

Harry kept his face blank and focused on occluding his mind. "Where's who?" he asked coldly.

Bellatrix was cut off from answering by one of the largest robed men.

"Marcus Dougherty, the scum thief!" he snarled, brandishing his wand before him threateningly. "Don't try denying it boy! He was here! I could recognize the smell of his blood anywhere!"

Harry raised an eyebrow at this. "So sorry –" he frowned. " - well actually no I'm not – but I've got no idea who you're talking about."

"Someone's telling lies . . ." Bellatrix said softly in a singsong voice. The Cruciatus curse hit him before he had the chance to act. Harry fell to his knees as the pain rushed through his body. It was blinding, agonizing, burning through his veins. Refusing to cry out he bit hard inside his mouth to keep from screaming. Finally the curse was lifted and Harry lay panting on the floor, left with the coppery taste of blood flooding his mouth and the ghostly pain of the curse throughout his limbs. The Death-eaters were laughing, and he could feel Bellatrix close to him.

"Remember Harry," whispered Bellatrix. "That's how the Cruciatus curse is _really_ done."

Harry spat blood out of his mouth and pulled himself to his feet, clenching his jaw against the ache in his body that had yet to subside.

"Perhaps a description could help." Continued Bellatrix. "The thief is about six foot, coppery hair, bleeding heavily from the head and chest area. Ring a bell at all?"

Harry wiped the last of the blood from his lip with the back of his hand and smirked. "I don't seem to recall anyone of that rather vague description. _So_ glad I couldn't be of any help."

Bellatrix sneered at him. "If it makes you feel any better Potter, we won't kill him. We're merely after a little gift for our Lord. A very pretty necklace, I'm sure you would have noticed one lying around." When Harry remained silent she continued anger permeating her voice. "Would you prefer to answer our questions here Potter, or in the Dark Lords torture chamber? My Lord has recently acquired several new toys that I've been _dying_ to try out. Now where – "

Bellatrix stopped dead as the squealing of breaks were heard outside accompanied by the shrill scream of the police sirens.

"This is the police! Get out of the house and lay down on the ground! Refusal will force us to use force! Vacate the house, get down on the ground and put your hands behind your head!"

Harry closed his eyes in regret. The muggles outside were about to die.

"Deal with them." He heard Bellatrix hiss and he opened his eyes to see the other Death-Eaters leave the house with a swish of cloaks, wands drawn.

Bellatrix remained behind him. Harry closed his eyes again as he heard gunfire on the front lawn and the muggles screaming. An explosion rocked the side of the house and Harry could feel the heat of the flames just outside the open front door. He started as he felt hot breath in his ear.

"Tragic isn't it?" Bellatrix whispered softly. Harry felt her fingertips brush the back of his collar threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. He held back a shudder of revulsion and held his ground. He could feel the tip of her wand trace down his spine making the flesh beneath his clothes crawl. "All those _innocent_ lives . . ."

Harry opened his eyes and watched the glow of the flames from an overturned police car out the corner of his eye. "Innocence is an illusion."

Bellatrix chuckled softly in his ear and he felt her body move around so she faced him. Her fingers were still curled in his hair and she looked at him as though considering what he had said for a moment. "You learn fast child. Now lets see if you learned your first lesson. Where is the pendant?" Harry again remained silent. An evil grin swept over Bellatrix's once lovely face. "It's here isn't it? Dougherty didn't get the chance to take it with him." Something must have flickered on Harry's face for a moment, as a moment later a triumphant grin graced the woman's features.

The hand twisted in his hair let go and she caressed his face tenderly. "Imagine the two things the Dark Lord has been searching for delivered to him as one. The key to the Temple, and _you_. " She moved in closer to him so their faces were almost pressed together and breathed into his ear. "I look forward to seeing you chained and bloody in the Dark Lords private dungeon."

Harry flicked his wrist sending the dagger down into his left hand before moving swiftly to plunge the knife into his godfather's murderess' flesh. She saw the blow coming at the last second and spun away, but not before the blade was driven into her shoulder. She let out a cry of pain and fell to the ground. Harry didn't stop to think, he merely wrenched the knife from her body as she fell from him and ran for it.

Pitching out the window he hit the ground and rolled onto his feet in one smooth motion. His feet started pounding the ground before he had time to order them to, his survival skills kicking in. He pelted around the corner automatically taking the shortcuts and back alleyways towards Privet Drive. He scaled the fence with ease and hit the ground on all fours not even pausing for a second before continuing to run. One thought was in his head. Get a head start. His hand travelled to his jacket pocket and he felt the pendants box inside his shirt. Relief flooded him. He still had it.

He raced around the corner into Privet Drive and vaulted over the short hedge running alongside the Dursley's house. Wrenching open the door he slammed it shut behind him and hurdled up the stairs. Whatever the strange pendant was, Voldemort was after it. Had been searching for it for months apparently. Harry had to get it to headquarters.

He burst into his room and flung open his wardrobe grabbing a rucksack from the back. Only two days into the holiday, Harry had made sure to pack this bag in case the unspeakable happened and Voldemort tracked him down. He wanted to be ready to be run at any moment. Inside the rucksack were three days worth of clothes, a compass, his fathers invisibility cloak, and a large quantity of both wizard and muggle money. Thrusting the still bloody dagger back into its sheath he swung the rucksack over his shoulders and raced to his desk. Scribbling a note onto a piece of parchment he hastily tied it to Hedwigs leg, giving a prayer of thanks to whatever deity listening that he hadn't let Hedwig out to hunt tonight.

Throwing his window open he carried the snowy owl over to the windowsill. "Fly low!" he ordered the owl quickly. "Get this to Dumbledore as fast as you can. Just keep out of sight." The bird hooted concernedly at him, nipping his finger affectionately. "Now go! Safe flight!"

And with that the bird soared off into the night. Harry watched her for a moment before running out of his room and down the stairs. He had to get to headquarters. That much was certain. There was just the matter of how he was going to get there. Flying his broom would mean certain capture. There was no other Floo connected fireplace in all of Little Whinging. The Knight Bus would be taking a risk. It could be flagged down easily by all manner of wizards no matter what their intentions.

He threw open the refrigerator and began cramming food into the bag. If he had to travel by muggle means he would need to get moving. The only thing to think of was how he was to get to London. Thinking quickly he ran to the garage, opening the automatic door. Harry grimaced. Dudley was going to kick his arse.

Moving quickly Harry pulled the black helmet over his head, snapping the visor down, and swung his leg over the great hulking black motorcycle. Checking his jacket pocket one last time, he made sure that the box was safe inside before revving the motor and taking off down the driveway. And without a look behind him he disappeared into the darkness, leaving the flames and screaming sirens from Wisteria Walk behind him.

Grimmauld Place was in chaos. Mere hours ago, an attack had occurred in Little Whinging. Eight muggles had been killed; Arabella Figg's home had been partially destroyed, as had several other homes and police cars. The artefact Marcus had worked so hard to bring back to England was missing, and worse of all Harry Potter too was missing and presumed dead or captured.

Three teenagers sat on the highest step of the stairs, watching the confusion below them with distressful expressions. Hermione Granger sat close to Ginny holding her hand tightly as they watched the mass of aurors and Order members swarm below them. Both girls' eyes were red and swollen though no tears could be seen on their faces now. Ron's hands grasped the wooden banister so tightly his knuckles had long ago turned white. They sat in absolute silence. In the middle of the mass of confusion wreaking havoc on the ground floor of Grimmauld Place, was a small table, laden with maps and paperwork, which the Headmaster of Hogwarts was poring over alongside Mad-eye Moody, Remus Lupin and Minerva Mcgonnagal, all talking in low anxious tones.

Not three hours ago the alarms had started going off in the House indicating that a large scale Death-eater attack was underway at Little Whinging. Aurors had flocked to the scene immediately to find Death-eaters blasting everything within wand-reach and Bellatrix Lestrange screaming like a Banshee to "Find the Boy!"

They had been driven off within twenty minutes and now Bellatrix wasn't the only one looking for the Boy-who-lived. Harry Potter had disappeared without leaving so much as a clue as to what had happened to him or to where he had gone. The Dursleys had returned to find Order members combing the house for a trace about what had happened to their nephew. It was needless to say that the Dursleys were not happy. Petunia had shrieked every time someone had approached her while holding a wand, Dudley spent the entire investigation squatting in a corner with his hands clamped firmly around his rather large buttocks, and Vernon had began screaming that they were all well shot of that unnatural child, and that all the freaks had better get out of his house right now!

It had taken three aurors to stop Remus from launching himself on the overweight muggle. Mad-eye Moody had been close to hexing Vernon Dursley after finding seven locks on the outside of Harry's bedroom door, and a great deal of black energy coming from both Harry's bedroom and the cupboard under the stairs.

All the Order had been able to find was the fact that someone (most probably Harry) had quickly ransacked the house of any food and some of the boy's possessions. The invisibility cloak was missing as was Harry's wand and owl.

Remus glanced around the room taking in the confusion and despair. His eyes locked on the three people huddled in the shadows at the top of the stairs. Frowning he moved away from the table and waded through the fray of anxious Order members. Finally climbing to the top of the stairs he crouched down and gave the three teens a weary smile. "How are you all?" he asked softly.

Ron turned his eyes away from the busy scene below him just long enough to give his ex-professor a disgusted look before turning back angrily. The two girls gave him similar looks.

"How do you think?" the red haired wizard spat angrily.

Remus nodded. "We're doing all we can to find out what happened-"

"Stop." Said Hermione softly. "Just tell me what has happened to my best friend. Where is my brother?"

"Just please!" cried Ginny, finally losing the battle with her tears. She swiped at her face angrily. "Please tell us what's happened."

Remus sighed, about to refuse, when he looked up at the three young wizards before him. Despair and utter sadness were written across their faces. He closed his eyes tightly before opening them again.

"Early this evening, Marcus accessed Privet Drive in search of an Order member to assist him. We don't know why he went there of all places and as he is still unconscious, we are unable to question him just yet. He was severely injured, too much so for Tonks to heal him herself. With Arabella and Harry's help she managed to stabilise his condition but needed to get him back to Headquarters for him to be properly healed. Death-eaters were already hunting him as he possessed a certain artefact that Voldemort has been after for the last two months."

The three teenagers were giving him their complete attention now.

"Arabella, Tonks and Marcus came through the Floo first. Harry was to go straight after them but the Death-eaters ambushed the house before he had a chance. He managed to escape while the Death-eaters were ridding themselves of the muggle police. We don't know where he is. Right now we have Aurors searching the remains of Arabella's home, and the Dursley's residence, for any sign as to where Harry may have fled.

Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes before continuing.

"To make matters worse, Harry is in possession of the artefact Marcus worked so hard to try and get to Headquarters. Voldemort wants both Harry and the Key desperately. Death-eaters are hunting Harry as we speak and I'm afraid they have a head start on us. Do any of you know someone Harry would seek out if he needed help? We are drawing a complete blank on where he would head to."

Ron and Ginny both shook their heads desolately. Hermione however, bit her lip and glanced at the grubby carpet of the stairway.

Remus frowned. Hermione was trying desperately to avoid eye contact with any of the others. "Hermione, if you know where he's gone – even a vague suspicion as to where he might be right now – you have got to tell us. Death-eaters are already hunting him. They could already have found him for all we know!"

"There's a place." She whispered softly. "A safe haven. Harry told me about it if I ever needed protection outside of Hogwarts and I couldn't contact any of the Order or the Ministry."

Ron frowned. "Why wouldn't he tell me or Ginny about this place?"

"You're pureblood." Hermione bit her lip. "The Sanctuary is a place for the muggleborn and muggle-raised to turn to when they need a safe place. It's sort of an underground organization. Harry said he's used it a lot while he's at the Dursley's. Whenever his Uncle used to get too violent with him or when Harry just needed some time to himself, Sanctuary would welcome him back every time."

"What do you mean 'violent'?" asked Remus, anger flaring in his gut as he watched both Hermione and Ron give each other a knowing glance before turning back to the werewolf.

Ron was the one who answered him. "Harry's Uncle used to get sort of physical with Harry sometimes . . . It stopped ages ago!" added Ron hastily as Remus' eyes flashed from warm brown to almost dirty gold.

"Harry made us promise not to tell." Whispered Hermione fearfully. "Please don't tell anyone. It stopped by the time we started fourth year."

Remus clenched his jaw. "We'll discuss this later. With Harry present." Growled Remus as he closed his eyes. "Tell me about Sanctuary."

Hermione cast her eyes downwards and fidgeted with a stray piece of hair which had escaped from the ribbon that held the curly mass back off her face. "I don't know a lot. Only what Harry told me. He started going there when he was nine. One of the teachers at his school recommended it after Harry went to class with a split lip. He found out later that the teacher was a Squib who volunteered at Sanctuary now and then. He knew exactly who Harry was and what he was going through at the Dursley's, so he gave Harry the address. It took Harry a while to try it out, he told me he was scared, he didn't want to find help, and he knew what would happen if his Uncle found out."

Hermione pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. "Harry gave this to me at the end of fourth year before we boarded the Hogwarts Express. He told me that every town in Great Britain has at least one entry to the Sanctuary, if not more. If I was ever in trouble I must get my parents and myself to Sanctuary. He said they would keep my family safe until he could reach us. He said someone named Lex would ensure my protection if I hunted him down and told him Harry sent me, something about Lex owing Harry a favour."

She bit her lip and passed Remus the slip of paper. He unfolded it hastily.

"_Seventy-four Gleefield Park_." He read aloud.

"No-one else must know of this.," said Hermione, looking Remus straight in the eye now. "Harry made me swear to never tell a soul about the Sanctuary. If Voldemort ever found out about it . . ." she trailed off shivering slightly. "It would be a massacre. The shelter has its defence, from what I've heard Harry volunteers there, spends huge amounts of his inheritance on making the security tighter. But there are massive numbers of those who shelter there. Mostly runaway kids and orphans. If Death-eaters managed to find out about the Sanctuary and to gain entry, they wouldn't stand a chance."

Remus nodded grimly. "Why have I never heard of this place before? Shouldn't the Ministry have alerted the public that this place exists? That it's a safe house for those seeking help?"

Hermione shook her head violently. "The Ministry can never know of this place. There are far too many spies inside the Ministry and if even one gateway was made public knowledge, you know that Voldemort would jump at the chance to slaughter hundreds of muggle-borns."

"Very well I will keep this quiet. Is that everything you can remember?"

Hermione nodded. "Keep it safe." She whispered, closing Remus' fingers over the piece of paper in his hand.

Remus nodded once again, slipping the piece of paper inside his coat pocket as he stood. "You know I will." He turned to walk back down the stairs when a loud screech sounded behind him. He whipped around to see a snowy owl soar over his head and into the fray below. "Hedwig!" yelled Ron.

The entire house seemed to fall into silence as the owl circled down and landed on the table before the aging Headmaster.

The three teens leapt down the stairs past Remus and shoved their way through the crowd of people. Remus paused at the foot of the stairs, his hand resting on the banister to prevent his knees from giving way. Her locked eyes with Helga across the room and nodded grimly as she gave him an encouraging smile.

Dumbledore reached for the scrap of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg. Wasted old fingers flicked open the ties with remarkable dexterity, before freeing the owl of it's burden and allowing it to fly over to land on Ron's shoulder. She nipped the redhead's offered fingers affectionately, before ruffling herself in a dignified manner and settling herself down.

Dumbledore's eyes moved quickly behind their glasses as he scanned over the letter. Relief flooded the old mans face as he recognised the writing. "He's alive!" he announced to those watching silently with bated breath.

There were cries of relief from those listening. Remus leant against the banister as relief flooded him. Molly Weasly was sobbing in relief while the twins patted her on the back as they grinned at the news.

"He has the Key, and is making his way to Headquarters. He asks that no owl be sent in response as he doesn't wish it tracked to him." Dumbledore frowned. "Bellatrix knows about the Key." He looked up from the letter. "Kingsley, I want aurors stationed at all entry's into London. They must be on full alert for any Death-eater activity and for any sign of young Harry. Voldemort will no doubt have the majority of his forces searching for him and we cannot under any circumstances allow Harry to be captured."

"Of course Albus." Replied Kingsley, hurrying away to floo to Auror HQ.

Dumbledore turned back to the roomful of people. "We will have a member of the Order stationed at the Office of Underage wizardry at all times over the next week. One sign of Harry's magical signature is to be reported to me immediately.

"None of this is to be reported to the Minister. Fudge will alert the media immediately and cause a panic we don't need while running this operation. Until Harry Potter is safely back at Headquarters with the Key, I want this kept silent."

Snape gasped suddenly and grabbed his forearm. He looked up meeting Dumbledores eyes with his own. The old man nodded. "Go. Find out all you can of this." Snape nodded grimly and turned to leave the room. "Severus," called Dumbledore. Snape turned back at the doorway. Dumbledore nodded to him. "Stay safe."

Snape turned and swept out of the room, robes billowing out behind him as he left.

"What about search parties Albus?" growled Moody. "I can assemble a team in the hour and-"

"No." ordered Dumbledore shaking his head. "I cannot allow that. Even if we managed to catch Harry's trail, which I doubt severely, Voldemort would be on top of us faster then we could blink. We would lead the enemy straight to their target, and I will not allow Harry to be endangered by our actions."

"But Dumbledore," cried Tonks in disbelief. "Voldemort's on Harry's trail, you said that yourself! It's only a matter of time before he finds him!"

"I do not believe so Nymphadora. Harry Potter has my full confidence in his abilities. I have worked closer with that young man then any other here, except perhaps Severus." The old man chuckled slightly. "Although that partnership did not go as preferred. Harry is an extremely resourceful, intelligent and powerful wizard. The only reason that I have not allowed him to be more active in the field during this war is the fact that he is a mere sixteen years old. He has done more for the side of light during his short sixteen years then many of the wizards standing in this room. And by this I do not speak of the temporary defeat of Voldemort but of his other less well-known triumphs over Voldemort and the Dark side. There is more reason then that of revenge that drives Voldemort to kill the boy. And that is fear.

"Harry was prepared for an attack on Privet Drive, there's no other explanation as to how fast he managed to escape. He has been ready to run. Harry must have a plan of some kind if something like this was ever to happen. I believe he has somewhere or someone he will run to, but if we interfere we could jeopardize both Harry and the Key."

"That's another thing Dumbledore," spoke Minerva quietly. "The Key. It's a powerful magical object. Will Harry be able to carry it without being affected by it? Marcus had it for less then forty-eight hours and if Poppy's findings are anything to go by, he's showing signs of altered magical genes. It should take Harry three days to a week to reach London if he's travelling by the muggle way. That's more then enough time for the Key's magic to seep into his own."

"Harry is very strong willed, as most who know him are well aware." The Headmaster chuckled to himself. "He will have no problem bringing the Key to Headquarters, and even if the Key does influence his magical genes," Dumbledore smiled serenely. "I fail to see why that would be a bad thing."

Remus frowned. "Dumbledore, Harry's already powerful. You've said so yourself. He excels in some of the most complicated Defence spells of the century. He has huge amounts of raw power and he's yet to reach his magical peak yet. Changing his magical genes could – it could make his magic unpredictable, uncontrollable even. Harry's been known to lose control of his magic at the level it's at now. How will he be able to control it if it suddenly doubles - or triples?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I do not believe that the Key will effect Harry to that magnitude. I have known Harry to exercise brilliant control when he puts his mind to it. Extra Occlumency should help keep everything in check." He looked around the group. "Now if that is all I think we should wrap things up and draw up a watch-duty around the city. I want every possible entrance covered. That is all we can really do. The rest is up to Harry now."


	3. Hunted

Chapter Three 

**Hunted**

Harry started awake with a gasp. Bright green eyes darted around the small clearing he had stopped at in the early hours of the morning, when exhaustion had finally forced him to stop for rest. The sun was high in the sky and Harry growled in frustration. How long had he been here? He had only meant to stop for a few short hours to rest his body and cool down the bike. Forcing his tired and battered body to sit up from the nest of grass, leaves and clothes he had slept in for the last several hours, Harry searched for his rucksack while he stretched and tried his hardest to remain alert of his surroundings. Finally finding the bag he pulled an apple from its depths and bit into it hungrily.

He had slept with his clothes and shoes intact and now had that dirty feeling of being unwashed going on for him. Quickly packing up his belongings as he finished his apple, Harry checked the scrapes and bruises that littered his body from his escape. The ache from the Cruciatus was still present and he had found his leg twitching at odd times during the night without his say-so. It seemed that some nerves had been damaged by the curse. '_Just great._' thought Harry as he made sure to properly mess up the ground where he had rested, making sure the print his body had made in the long grass was not visible; ensuring no evidence of his time in this place was present was crucial if he intended to stay a step ahead of those tracking him.

Finally he swept his invisibility cloak off the bike that sat under the trees and stuffed it into his bag before strapping it to his back. He had to get moving. There was no telling how close Bellatrix and the others were on his tail. Making sure that the box holding the strange pendant was still in his jacket pocket, he shook his hair free of leaves and dirt and jammed the helmet over his head. Harry checked his wand and the several daggers strapped conveniently to his body, and finding no fault, swung his leg over the motorcycle.

Gunning the engine he raced off down the tiny track that wound through the trees all the way through the woods. It had been a good place to stop for rest. Secluded, yet not too far from the road if he needed to leave quickly. Harry was pretty sure that Voldemorts minions were already looking for him and would at this moment be scouring all towns and cities close to Little Whinging in hopes of finding him. By sticking to the outskirts of cities and losing himself in the wilderness he would throw them off track. He frowned and snapped down the visor of the helmet as he wove in and out of the trees. It would take him maybe five or six days to get to London if he travelled like this. Not nearly fast enough. Not with Voldemort pulling his every resource trying to find him. There were a few different routes to London, but they would all take days before he could reach headquarters. Unless . . .

He burst out of the woods and onto the road with a squeal of breaks. The smell of burnt rubber filled his nostrils and he sped off down the highway. There was a way he could reach London in only a couple of days, but it was a risk. A big risk. He would have to get to a large city and find the Gateway. He gritted his teeth. He could be leading his hunters straight to those who had needed protection from them in the first place. Harry knew he would not be turned away from the Gateway, no one ever was and that was the whole point of Sanctuary.

He darted the bike between cars as the highway became busier. The road shimmered with the midday heat and sweat was beginning to drip down Harry's back. If he could safely get though a Gateway it would have to be sealed behind him. If a Death-eater gained access to Sanctuary . . . Harry didn't think he could deal with the guilt that the hundreds who would die would bestow upon him. Knowing he led their enemies straight to the innocent and defenceless would destroy him far quicker then any Death-eater could.

He would be easily traceable once he entered the cities. Death-eaters were on full alert for his presence and to win such a prize for the Dark Lord would boost even the most plebeian of Death-eaters into the Inner Circle. He wondered if Hedwig had made it to Headquarters yet. He tried not to think of the possibility that she may have been intercepted. '_Well not much you can do about that now, is there?_' thought Harry to himself. He glanced down as the tiny red light on the bike began flashing again. '_Damn . . ._'

He was running low on gas. All he needed now was for the bike to clunk out in the middle of nowhere, leaving him an open target for his enemies. He sped up, increasing the speed dramatically. First he needed to find a gas station. From there he'd figure out what to do next.

The warm sun was beating down on the backs of the pedestrians and assorted characters that filled the streets of London. Vibrant colours and harsh smells assaulted the werewolf's senses as keen brown eyes scanned the crowd for anyone that smelled of Dark magic. All he could find was the occasional soft scent of magical muggleborn children, who had not yet reached the age when they would receive an invitation to a magical school. He smiled at a little witchlet with golden curls who tugged on her mothers sleeve for attention as she passed him. She couldn't have been more then six years old and she seemed to be brimming with magical energy. '_A powerful one she will be._' Thought Remus, chuckling to himself as he opened the Styrofoam lid of the steaming cup of coffee he had purchased from a street vender.

Remus leant against a high garden wall that round it's way around the borderline of the park he had just finished his patrol through. It was nearly midday and there had been no news from any of their sources as of what had happened to Harry. Snape had not yet returned from Voldemort's gathering so they had no idea what the Dark Lord was up to. Remus knew that Voldemort would try his best to take advantage of the situation, and if Harry remained out in the open it would only be matter of time before Voldemort would take the Boy-who-lived. And if Harry was ever captured . . .

Remus shuddered, taking a long sip of coffee from his cup. He loathed to admit it be he was also sort of worried about ol' Snivillus. They hadn't had any contact with him since his summoning the night before. It was a rare occasion that Voldemort would call Snape away for such a length of time, as Dumbledore may become suspicious of his Potions Master's absence. Usually when such an occasion arose it meant that Voldemort had some top-secret plan or a high profile prisoner and couldn't afford for the information to be leaked by careless followers or a spy. Both of these possibilities spelt bad things for the Order. They desperately needed Snape's information on the Dark sides plan of action, and having him trapped at the Dark Lords headquarters was not a good thing for the snarky Professor or the Order. And if the high profile prisoner theory was true . . . Harry would not be killed quickly. Voldemort had been plotting his revenge for fifteen years. He would have had to come up with some pretty creative methods of death and torture in that time.

Remus forced himself to take another sip of coffee and was shocked to see his hands shake slightly. He had amazed himself with the deep feelings of concern he had for the son and godson of his best friends. He had spent the better part of his life shying away from human contact. From the day they had arrested Sirius to the time three years ago when Dumbledore had written to him asking if he would like to join the teaching staff at Hogwarts, Remus had lived in quiet solitude. The Marauders were all gone. James murdered while protecting his wife and son. Peter killed – or so everyone had believed – in one of the most infamous massacres the wizarding world had ever seen. Sirius rotting in Azkaban for said murders. Remus was all that had been left. He had spent over a decade reliving his mistakes that cost his friends their lives and sanity. Once a month he would chain himself in his basement for the full moon and then spend the next week recuperating only to repeat it the following month.

Then Albus' letter had come. It had taken Remus over a week to work up the courage to pen a reply. He had been apprehensive about accepting Dumbledore's offer. A werewolf teaching Hogwarts' children would not go down well with the Governors. But Dumbledore had finally persuaded him to agree. Then the day on the Hogwarts Express had come. Remus had been beyond exhausted. The full moon had only been three nights before and he had yet to return to full strength. He was fairly sure he had fallen asleep before the train had pulled out the station. Then he had awoken to find the previously empty compartment filled with young students and a Dementer of all things. It was then he had met Harry Potter.

It had been a shock to say the least. There was no mistaking James and Lily's son anywhere. He was wholly his parents' child. The ruffled black hair, high cheekbones and deep emerald green eyes had bought memories of Remus' former life rushing back to him. He had often wondered during the weeks after their first encounter, whether the gods were playing some cruel game with him. What had made Harry and his friends choose that particular compartment for the journey. Had Harry known it was the same compartment the four Marauders had met for the first time as first years? Had he recognized something from his past in Remus' face?

Remus had found himself wracked with guilt in those first moments that Harry had opened his eyes after the Dementer attacked. This was Harry. James and Lily's Harry. The child he had become an honorary uncle to thirteen years previously. The little boy he had last seen a week before the Fidelus Charm had been performed. They had been sitting on the floor of the nursery at Potter Manor. The baby had been giggling happily as he and Sirius piled blocks in front of him for Little Harry to send crashing down. Remus had remembered that particular scene as he had stood out in the corridor of the train after he had excused himself to speak to the conductor. He could remember the soft green on the walls of the nursery, the bright sunlight flooding the room. There had been tiny crystal sun catchers hanging from the ceiling, casting rainbows over the floor. Padfoot had been making bubbles shoot out the end of his wand and they had filled the room, catching the sunlight and making Harry giggle in delight.

Remus had spent that entire year trying to make up for his neglect through the years of Harry's childhood. He had relished in the times they had spent in his office going over spell theories and training Harry in the Patronus charm. Remus smiled as he remembered the heartfelt talks he'd had with Harry about his parents back when they had attended school. He had been astounded by how little Harry knew of them. If it had not been for Dumbledores wish that Harry be left without the responsibilities his inheritance would bring, Remus would have taken Harry to Potter Manor on one of the Hogsmeade weekends they had spent together in Remus' office. As far as Remus knew, the manor had not been touched except for the odd house-elf or groundskeeper, since the night the Potter's had fled with their son in the dead of night to one of their holiday homes, Godric's Hollow.

Remus smiled and drained the last of the coffee, crushing the Styrofoam cup into a ball and chucking it into the trashcan. Harry had started talking a few months before his family had gone into hiding. Lily had been delighted with him and had made cookies with the house-elves to celebrate. Syllables were something that had escaped the baby entirely though, so Remus had been dubbed by young Harry as, 'Moo'. James had thought it to be hilarious. He had even gone as far as to give Remus a cow print coffee mug with the words Uncle Moo printed across it.

They had all been his family, his pack. And he had abandoned his young cub when Harry had needed protection the most. Remus scowled as he remembered Hermione's words the previous day. '_Whenever Harry's Uncle used to get too violent with him._'

Remus growled low in his throat. Child abuse. Why had no one noticed? Why hadn't Harry said anything to him? To Dumbledore? To anybody? Remus' eyes flashed amber as he remembered picking Harry up with the Advance Guard the year before. The locks on the door he had missed in the dark that night, but not Harry's thin and wasted appearance. He had assumed at the time that his anxiety after Voldemorts return had left him with bad eating habits and careless personal care. Moody's discovery of black energy in the house had been a sore topic for all who were aware of it. Black energy was often connected to trauma cases and was often found in dungeons were imprisonment and torture had taken place.

Remus felt sick as he thought of what Harry must have suffered in that house. He remembered how Harry would flinch or stiffen at human contact. No wonder. The only physical contact Harry had ever had with his relatives would probably have been a backhander to the face.

Remus was no stranger to the idea of child abuse. Sirius' father had been a tyrant and it was many a night during the summer holidays that Remus would wake up to a bloody and bruised Sirius hovering on his broom outside his window. Mr Black had not taken kindly to the fact that his son had been sorted into Gryffindor and was friends with James Potter, whose family had represented the light for countless centuries. He took much of his anger and frustration out on hi son. It took until sixth year for the rest of the Marauders to convince Sirius to leave his family. The Potters had taken him in for the summer holidays until the boys had graduated and Sirius bought a flat of his own as well as the bloody motorcycle. He wondered what Sirius would do if he had been around to discover this about Harry. '_Probably burst into Privet Drive wand blazing._' Remus thought as he smiled sadly.

One thing was for certain, and that was when Harry returned – Remus didn't want to think about him not returning – they were going to have a long talk about this. He would take it to Dumbledore if he had to. Harry would _not_ be going back to Privet Drive again as long as Uncle Moo had anything to say about it!

He pulled a slip of paper out of his muggle jacket. _Seventy-four Gleefield Park_.

It was an area close to Hermione's parents home. Sanctuary for the hunted and condemned. The people there had helped Harry when he needed it. He needed help again now. Would he run here? Remus slipped the paper back into his pocket and began walking back through the park. Whether or not he found Harry there, he intended to thank them for their service to Harry over the years. From what Hermione had said it sounded though Harry was deeply involved and indebted to this Sanctuary, judging by his efforts with their security.

Remus had checked the history of Harry's Gringotts vault, and just as Hermione had said huge withdrawals had been made over the years. Millions of galleons and they were only from the allowance vault James and Lily had set up for him after his birth. There was supposed to be enough gold in there for Harry to complete his schooling very comfortably. After that was a second larger vault he was to be given control of on his sixteenth birthday that contained enough to keep him very well off for a great many years. On his seventeenth birthday he was to be given control of the entire Potter fortune and all the family's lands, estates and titles. Harry would have his hands full come July next year. He was to be schooled in the proper way to deal with his inheritance over the next year. There was also the family's seat at the Wizenmagot once he reached his majority and finished his schooling.

Remus fully intended to be there for him when this was all revealed to him, but for now he would have to try to contact this Sanctuary, to see if they had any clue to Harry's whereabouts. Well that and plotting with Mad-eye over what is to be done with Harry's relatives . . .

Tonks sat next to the bed in the darkened room as she gently wiped Marcus' forehead with a damp cloth. He groaned slightly and shifted in his sleep. His face was deathly pale in the little light the candles cast over the small bedroom. The young auror grimaced as she noticed blood seeping through the bandages that covered his bare abdomen. The slashing curse one of the Death-eaters had used on him was made so the wounds weren't healing properly. They desperately needed old Snape to return from the summoning. Marcus was in need of some very complicated potions, and those who were currently at Headquarters were not skilled enough in Potions to brew such potions correctly. Even Madame Pomfrey was being cautious in which potions she administered to the badly wounded man.

She straightened the coverlet, and played absently with a length of cotton that had unravelled from the blanket. Madame Pomfrey was indeed worried about Marcus' condition. The injuries inflicted by the Death-eaters combined with his magical genes being altered slightly by the Key, were both proving to be more dire then first thought. There was no record of this kind of gene mutation in any of the medical journals that Madame Pomfrey was familiar with and she had a large group of medical scholars researching at Saint Mungo's for anything important that mentioned magical mutations bought on by magical objects.

Tonks lifted her hand and gently pushed some strands of hair out of Marcus' eyes. She examined his tired and worn face worriedly. She wished his blue eyes would lit up as they used to when he laughed, or that he would curl his fingers in his coppery brown hair as he did when nervous or concentrating. She smiled. She always used to berate him for doing that, telling him he would get a bald spot. His skin should be a rough tan from all the time he spent outdoors but he was much to pale. '_It must be from all that blood he lost_.' She thought dejectedly as she ran her hands through his hair. She started as Marcus' eyes fluttered open, and she jumped backwards knocking a glass of water off the bedside table.

"Oh don't stop on account of me . . ." he murmured, a humoured smile gracing his lips. "I think I'd like to wake up like that every morning."

Tonks blushed and quickly flicked her wand at the mess the glass had made on the carpet. It disappeared instantly. "What do you mean morning?" she asked with a grin. "It's past noon!" she smiled as he grinned at her. "How are you feeling?"

Marcus shrugged his shoulders slightly, and winced from the pain caused by his tiny movement. "A little sore." He admitted. "But I'll heal. Always do."

"Hmmm." Murmured Tonks. "You were always getting into trouble back at the Academy." She said with a grin.

Marcus laughed hoarsely. "_I_ was always getting into trouble? More like _you _were always getting _me_ into trouble! The number of times we both ended up in the Infirmary . . ."

He grinned up at Tonks. "How times change huh?" he said gesturing around at all the potions, charts and medical supplies that lined the walls of the make shift sickroom.

Tonks laughed. "Merlin, I've missed you Marcus." She said wrapping her hand around his. "When I heard you were on a top secret mission for Dumbledore . . . I was afraid I'd never see you again."

Marcus smiled and tightened his hand around hers. "Do you really think I'd go off and get myself killed without paying you back for that prank with the bright pink feathers back during our second year at the Academy?"

Tonks snorted. "I'd almost forgotten about that! You still haven't got me back for that either! Lazy bastard . . ." she grinned fondly at him.

"Lazy? I've been biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment, to strike when you least expect it!"

"Biding your time? You just couldn't think up any original pranks!"

"I'm insulted! I happen to have a very good prank up my sleeve and waiting for you to let your guard down . . . _Then_ we'll see who thinks up the most original pranks!"

Tonks laughed and ran her free hand through his hair. "Yeah you keep telling yourself that buddy." She said with a grin, cupping his jaw in her hand.

Marcus moved his head slightly and kissed her palm. Tonks froze shocked at his actions for a moment. He looked up at her and squeezed her hand. "I've missed you too Nymph . . ."

There was silence for a moment before Tonks slowly pulled away from him and settled her hands in her lap. "Marcus I – " she started softly.

"I was an idiot Tonks, please." He said softly, sapphire eyes almost pleading with her own. "Please, just think about it. I – I'll understand if –"

He was cut off as Tonks threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his. Startled at first Marcus froze until Tonks warm mouth parted slightly and her tongue ran over his bottom lip, and he began to kiss her back earnestly. Tonks moaned faintly as his hands slipped under her shirt to settle on the soft skin of the small of her back. His fingertips traced her vertebrae. Their tongues danced together as they hadn't for over a year. Tonks went to shift her weight when Marcus cried out suddenly and his hand flew to his ribs.

"Oh Merlin! You okay Marcus?" asked Tonks as she quickly climbed off him. He gave a hoarse laugh and grinned at her. "Never better . . ." he answered softly reaching up to take her hand in his again.

Tonks blushed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Let's take this slow okay?' she said. Grinning she added. "At least until your out of bandages!" Marcus laughed gruffly. Tonks bit her lip before continuing.

"I've got some bad news." She said hesitantly. Marcus frowned. "What bad news?" He asked frowning as he tried to sit up.

Tonks helped him sit up against his pillows before answering. "The Key never made it to Headquarters."

Marcus' eyes widened. "What?" he whispered softly.

"Mrs Figg and I helped you into the fireplace and Flooed over to Headquarters. Harry had the Key with him and was going to follow straight after us. Only thing is he didn't get the chance. Death-eaters barged in at the last second and destroyed the fireplace. He got away –barely – along with the Key. Right now he's on the run from Death-eaters and is trying to get to Headquarters. Dumbledore's forbidden anyone from trying to track him, since You-Know-Who is trying to track him as well, and we could lead them all straight to Harry. So we have absolutely no way of knowing where he is or what kind of shape he's in."

Marcus looked at her, a dazed expression on his face. "So, Harry Potter, number one on Voldemort's list of people to torture and kill has been mislaid along with the Key to the Temple, the thing that Voldemort has been looking for since his first reign?" he asked in a disbelieving voice. "And they're together? As in Happy Birthday Oh Lord of Darkness, here are the two things at the top of your Christmas List, in one nice neat little package, sorry I didn't get a chance to wrap them?"

Tonks shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah . . ."

Marcus dropped his head back into his pillows. "We're doomed. We're all gonna die! I haven't even learned to do the cha-cha yet. You always said you were gonna teach me, and you never did. Now it's too late! Voldemort's gonna open the gate – and –and everyone's gonna die and it's my fault. I should have gone straight to Headquarters! That – that poor kid's gonna be tortured to death and – "

"Marcus calm down! It's okay. Harry's gotten out of tight spots before, and he will again. He's a tough kid. Nothing keeps him down for long. Merlin, he's been fighting off evil since he was reintroduced to the wizarding world five years ago. He's got more experience with this stuff then _we_ do! If anyone can protect the Key, it's Harry Potter."

Marcus frowned and sighed. "I hope you're right Nympth, cause if you're not – it's Happy Birthday Mister Dark Lord and seeya later to the rest of humanity."

Harry pulled into the small roadside gas station with a sigh of relief. The little red light on the bike had stopped flashing about fifteen minutes ago and had stayed red instead. Harry had been pretty sure that wasn't a good thing. He had actually started promising any god that may have been listening that he would stop slacking off in Snapes classes, smile more at Filch and actually read _Hogwarts; a History_ instead of having Hermione quote it every time he needed some information. Suffice to say, he had been getting quite desperate.

He pulled to a stop in front of the gas pump and waited until a young man with blonde hair started making his way towards him before finally cutting the motor and removing his helmet. He swung himself off the bike with a groan. He felt like shit. He had been in a partially exploding building, had been cursed with the Cruciatus, had spent a good eight solid hours on that damned motorcycle last night, had slept on the ground under a bush of all things, and then had to get back on that god-damned motorcycle for another stint of driving. Not to mention he desperately wanted a shower. He felt icky, and there was dirt in his hair that made his scalp itch.

Harry stretched wearily as the blonde guy approached him. "What can I do for ya?" he asked as he wiped his hands on his overalls.

"Fill her up and wipe her down." Ordered Harry as he grabbed his rucksack. "Have you got a bathroom around here?"

"Yeah, restroom's over that way." The gas attendant said tipping his head to the left side of the truck stop.

"Thanks." Said Harry with a small grin, and headed off around the corner. He pushed the door to the restroom open and closed it carefully behind him. He quickly checked under each of the toilet stall doors before dumping his bag on the ground.

He shrugged off his jacket letting it hit the ground, and tugged his t-shirt up over his head. Turning the tap on the sink he let water fill his cupped hands, and splashed his face and hair. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and looked into the mirror, leaning heavily on the basin of the sink. His mother's pendant hung against his bare chest and Harry toyed with it slightly before letting it drop back to his chest. He wondered for the dozenth time what the strange symbols meant. However right now he had more pressing matters to attend to. What was he going to do? He needed a good rest really badly. And a shave by the looks of things. He ran his hand over his jaw and grunted in irritation. He finished washing, and dried his hair and chest with his old t-shirt. Taking a sniff of the shirt he crinkled his nose and balled it up, chucking it into the wastepaper basket in the corner.

Harry pulled a fresh shirt out of his bag and pulled it on scooping the jacket up off the floor he pulled that back on. He had made up his mind. He was going to Sanctuary. The nearest entry couldn't be more then a few miles away. There was no way he could keep this pace up without killing himself. Sanctuary would offer him protection for a few hours of much needed rest, and he could take a short cut through the Gateways to London.

There, it was decided. He finally had a plan. Now he just had to find a Gateway. Most were easily recognisable to those who knew what they were looking for. Just look for the signs.

Harry pulled the box out of his pocket and flicked it open. The black gem lay glittering on a bed of velvet. What the hell was it and why was Voldemort after it? Harry went to touch its shining inky black surface but stopped a few inches away from the gem. He could almost feel the energy and magic surfacing from the depths of the gem. It was as if his presence had awoken it from a long slumber. His hand retreated and he snapped the box shut again. There was no way he was going to get involved with this thing. He'd had way too many experiences with strange magical objects to be fooled into touching something so potentially dangerous.

He slipped the box back into his pocket, pulled out a Kleenex and began wiping down the sink and anything else he had touched whilst in the bathroom. He used the Kleenex to open the door and carefully exited the bathroom, shoving the tissue into a pocket. He pulled a hunk of Honeydukes chocolate from his bag and broke off a chunk. He popped it into his mouth and sighed as his muscles began to relax. Warmth flooded his body and the twitchiness in his leg began to fade. One good thing out of all the time he spent in the Hospital Wing over the past few years was that he knew his remedies inside and out.

He swung the rucksack back onto his back and made his way back over to where the attendant was finishing cleaning the bike. Harry dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. Sellecting two fifty-pound notes he passed them to the blonde guy and shoved the rest of the cash back in his pocket. "Thanks. Keep the change." He said with a smile as he swung himself back onto the bike.

"Yes, sir!" exclaimed the man happily. Harry pulled the helmet on and gunned the engine as he disappeared down the highway.

Hours later Jack sat outside the gas station where he worked and stifled a yawn. It had been a slow day. He stretched in his chair and settled himself more comfortably. The only interesting thing that had happened all day was the dark haired, green-eyed youth who had tipped him generously. It looked as though the kid had been a runaway; they got enough of those around here. Though where he had gotten all that cash from, Jack didn't know or care. The kid had a wicked bike though. That had been a few hours ago and not a whole lot had happened since then.

He tipped his hat low on his face to block out the harsh glare from the sun and stretched his legs out in front of him. Nothing else was going to happen today so he might as well catch a few winks while business was slow. The only other person working today was Milly, the old woman who sold food and cigarettes behind the counter inside. She was an okay old bird and wouldn't dob him in to the boss man.

He sighed and started to slip into unconsciousness. A sudden scream jerked him out of his doze and he leapt to his feet pushing his hat back off his face. A bright green flash blazed out the windows and doors of the truck stop then disappeared. He froze in fear as he peered into the open door to the truck stop. There was complete darkness inside but he could hear a slight swishing noise and a low whisper. A figure emerged from the darkness.

"Milly?" asked Jack uneasily.

He stepped backwards as the figure exited the truck stop. The figure wore a long black cloak with the hood pulled up over their head, obscuring their face. "Hello muggle." Came a harsh voice from inside the cloak and a pale hand slowly lowered the hood. A woman with long sleek black hair and cold dark eyes smiled at him humourlessly. Two more hooded figures appeared from behind her and Jack started as three more appeared around the side of the building.

"What do you want?" he asked fearfully eyes darting from the woman to the cloaked figures that had surely cut off his every escape route.

"A great many things," said the woman softly. "But right now, I need information on a certain thorn in my side." Jack nodded. "I'll do whatever you want, just don't hurt me."

She gave a dark smile and paused for a moment. Very well Muggle, I won't harm you." She dug a slender hand into her robe and pulled out a photograph. "Tell me where he is?" ordered the woman coldly and held up the photograph for Jack to see. It was a small head and shoulders shot of a teenaged boy. Jacks eyes widened at the familiar features. Bright green eyes – so green they seemed almost unnatural – ruffled black hair and a thin jagged scar across his forehead.

Jack nodded his head in conformity. "Yeah, yeah I've seen him."

The woman's eyes narrowed and a twisted smile appeared on her lips. "When?"

Jack swallowed hard. "Um – about three hours ago. Maybe – maybe four."

The sick smile on her face widened and a mad glint appeared in her eyes. She turned to the others. "Spread out!" she ordered. "I want him found! Any possible clue he may have left behind. Find it!" the three figures behind him moved away and went around the side of the building.

The woman turned back to Jack. "How long was he here for?" she questioned.

"I – I'm not sure . . . ten, fifteen minutes?" Jack stammered. He frowned in confusion. "What do you want with him? He- he seemed like a good kid . . . tipped me a good thirty pounds." Jack knew he was rambling but was finding it hard to stop.

"Yes, that sounds like Potter." Muttered the woman with a soft deadly sounding laugh. "As to what he did – he lived. He lived when every one before him had perished. But that child is living on borrowed time and he knows it. There is only a matter of time until he is the Masters and then the world will tremble before the Dark Lord!" she turned back to the stunned and frightened Jack. "Any other questions muggle?" Jack shook his head violently.

A shout sounded from around the corner and the woman looked up. "Bellatrix! I've found it!" came a man's deep voice. The woman – Bellatrix – set off around the corner. The other two grabbed Jack by the arms and pulled him roughly around the corner. The others were all crowded around the restroom. One of the men was squatting on the ground outside the door. He had a wad of material in his hands. "I've found his scent." He growled at Bellatrix.

"Are you sure Dollohov?" asked Bellatrix. "It's Potter?"

The man nodded a sadistic smile crossing his features. He raised the wad of material to his face and breathed in deeply. "Positive." He said, his eyes still closed. He tossed the balled up shirt to Bellatrix, who caught it, a hunger seeming to appear in her eyes.

"I have you now Potter." She whispered. "You're a deadman and you know it . . ."

The man who had found the shirt – Dolohov – got to his feet the sadistic smile back in full force. "When we catch him," he murmured as he took the shirt back from Bellatrix. "I want a few hours with him." He breathed the shirt in deeply. "Mmmm . . . Sweet young thing he is. Haven't had one like him in such a long time . . ."

Jack blanched, remembering the green-eyed youth who had smiled as he'd tipped him.

"We'll all have some fun with the boy, Dolohov. I intend to pay him back for that stab wound he gave me. If the Dark Lord permits it I don't see why you wouldn't be able to take your pleasure from the boy." She smirked. "Our Lord may even find it interesting entertainment." Bellatrix turned to him smiling darkly. "Anything else muggle?"

Jack shook his head fiercely. She turned away from him. "Very well. Kill him."

"What! No! You said you wouldn't hurt me!" gasped Jack as two cloaked men approached him, each holding something long and thin before them.

Bellatrix turned back to him smiling deceitfully. "And I'm not going to hurt you." She said sweetly. She motioned to the two men. "They are."

Jack opened his mouth to protest but before he could make his throat work a bright green light had engulfed him and he knew no more.

Bellatrix turned away from the body of the dead muggle and walked from the washroom.

"Come my friends," she cried as she turned to face the other Death-eaters. "Potter hasn't much of a head start and we hunger for the hunt. Remember, the Dark Lord wants him alive. You can make sport of him at the Masters desires after he is in chains. You have your orders.

"Now," she smiled evilly. "It's time for the Boy-who-lived to die."

**Chaseme720:** thanx for your reviews! I had to do a little doubletake when I first read your review asking me to have Harry stab Bellatrix. I'd already written two chapters following Summer Pains and as you can see Bellatrix had been bearing a stab wound! Looks around nervously . . .u can't by any chance read minds can u? As to whether Harry will have a slash or non-slash relationship – I'm undecided. I am a HUGE fan of Harry/Draco slash, but I'm not sure if I will have that ship in TTD. I'm kinda leaning towards Harry/OC. I DO have a Harry/Draco plot bouncing around in my head at the moment, but I don't think that will be out for a while yet. I'm still trying to get a plot into all the steamy boy on boy sex scenes I've got planned for my two favourite boys!

**Smileyface2007**: hope u enjoyed this chapter, thanx for the review!

**Neo:** oh you're making me blush with all these lovely comments! I was a bit worried about my writing, thanx for reassuring me! Like I've said above, I'm not sure about the pairings yet. Harry has always struck me as bisexual, especially after book five. Not sure why, I just feel that way. So it could be either way for slash. Stick around for the next chapter, and don't forget to review!

**ADJ**: ridiculously good and exciting? Oh yeah, I like u! thanx for reviewing!

**BlueAdonis**: thanks! U get a cookie! (::) mmmm . . . cookie . . .

**h**: happy new year to u to! Thanx for reviewing!

**OniLion**: thankyou so much! I'll try my best!

**Saetan**: yes Harry will be powerful in this fic, but not all-powerful. I figure that when wizards hit puberty their magic levels are unleashed along with all the pimples and bumpy stuff that comes their way. Harry's powerful for a wizard already, but with his adolescent powerboost and the effects of the key (cough cough telling secrets here so u'd better appreciate it!) he's bound to get rather powerful. He'll still struggle to learn how to control and use that power. I've always thought Harry had a little Slytherin inside struggling to get out . . . and now I've set him free!!! (Laughs evilly) Watch out Voldie, I'm coming to getcha!


	4. Gateways

A/N: _Looks around nervously_. I'm soooo sorry I haven't updated in like forever! I've had a case of bad writers block, not to mention I've got my Sace this year at school and my part-time job as well makes finding time to write kinda hard. I had started chapter four not long after posting Hunted but got sidetracked. Plus I started up a new fanfic The Emerald Dawn, which has been surprisingly popular. But that doesn't change the fact that I feel so bad for leaving it this long! _Hits self over the head with hardcover copy of HBP._

My favourite fanfic authors posting their next chapters have also sidetracked me. 'A Year Like None Other' rocks! Aspen I love you; you are an inspiration to all fanfic writers. Also 'A Stranger in an Unholy Land' by Jono is Fantastic! I love you as well Jono. Plus the discovery of a Harry/ Unique Pairing in _White Knight, Grey Queen_, which I've fallen in love with. Seriously, everyone go read these fics right now. Actually not right now, I want you to read my story now. Oh well. Check them out if you get the time.

A lot of you have concerns over whether TTD will be Slash or not. I've decided Harry will _not_ be in a slash relationship. It just doesn't seem right for this fic. I've got a sweet idea that's been bouncing around in my head for ages regarding Harry's love life in this fic. I've just got to tie up the loose ends and we might be seeing some Lurve later in the story.

I would also like to ask you all a question. Do you think I should up the rating of my story? I've been restraining myself in a few of the scenes, wanting to make them more graphic. I also want to include some kick-ass torture and sex scenes later in the story. I would like to thank Saetan for the LONGEST REVIEW EVER! Siriusly, you rule! (hehe. Get it Sirius, Serious?) Oh I've sunk to new lows . . . Oh well, carry on with the story.

**Transcending the Dark **

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling is the creator and owner of all characters and settings in her Harry Potter series. All other characters and settings mentioned in the following story are mine.

Chapter Four

**Gateways**

Dripping water echoed through the dark corridors of the old castle. The halls were a dark maze, twisting and turning into each other. Creatures scuttled across the floor and every here or there dark stains covered the stone floor. Every few yards lit torches were set into the damp walls and shadows moved against the stone. From deep inside the walls muffled screams tore from an unknown victims throat.

Out of the shadows walked a man stopping in front of a pair of huge doors. Severus Snape ran a hand through his greasy hair and wished fervently that he were anyplace but here. He stood outside the huge thick doors, breathing deeply as he prepared himself to enter hell itself. The cold stone passageway was dimly lit but enough so that Severus could make out the carvings that ornamented the great black doors before him. Carved into the wood were images of men and women in agonizing pain, hell fire, and great basilisks with glowing rubies for eyes. The flickering of the torchlight made the ruby eyes of the serpents seem almost as real as Voldemorts. The Potions Master tried his best to calm himself, taking deep breaths and slowly drawing his Occlumency walls up around his mind. Finally he closed his eyes and placed the white mask over his face before entering the chamber.

The screaming invaded his ears the moment he pushed open the doors with both hands. In the middle of the huge chamber a cloaked man lay on his back twitching and convulsing, his spine arching off the stone floor, as agonized screams tore from his throat. Several robed Death-eater's stood about the room, pouring over maps marked with tiny red markers and holding scrying crystals. They all seemed to be ignoring the man being tortured in the middle of the floor. Severus forced himself to block out the scene before him and strode purposefully towards the dais at the opposite end of the chamber, where seated there upon a great throne made of stone and black glass, sat the greatest Dark ruler of the age. Lord Voldemort.

Severus approached the throne and stopped several metres away at a respectful distance, before dropping to his knees and leaning down so that his forehead touched the cold stone. As the Dark Lord lowered his wand, the screaming ceased and was replaced with hoarse sobs.

"Ahh, Severus." Greeted Lord Voldemort. "You may rise."

Severus schooled his mind blank and raised his torso from the floor, letting himself kneel comfortably before the Dark Lord. "My Lord . . ." he murmured softly. "You summoned me?"

Voldemort twirled his wand languidly between his fingers. "Yes my _devoted_ Severus, I summoned you."

Severus remained silent, waiting for the man to whom he was enslaved to continue.

"I wonder Severus, how the task I have set for you is coming along?" Voldemort asked as he stood and slowly made his way towards the man kneeling before him.

"The potion is coming along fine my Lord. Only another twelve hours left of the brewing process and then it is ready for your purposes." Severus kept his voice calm. The man lying on the floor behind him sobbed loudly as he gasped for breath, moaning from the pain.

Voldemort nodded slowly. Severus felt his long cold fingers stroke his shoulder through the fabric of his robes and resisted a shudder. "Very well. Has the old fool tried to contact you Severus?"

Severus shook his head. "No my Lord. Dumbledore is most likely running off after Potter. He is . . . affectionate towards the boy. He is most likely putting as many resources he can spare towards searching for him."

The Dark Lord slowly walked back to his throne and turned, sweeping his robes around his long frame before majestically seating himself. His face was a mask, his eyes cold. "I am well aware of this." He whispered. "Have you any news on the Orders plans I should be aware of?" Voldemorts voice was silken with a hint of threat behind it.

Snape swallowed. "I do not believe so my Lord. There was pandemonium when news broke of the boy's disappearance and your faithful attacking the muggles. The boy's owl arrived moments before you summoned me. He claims to have the Key."

"I know of this also Severus. I know that the boy travels the muggle way. I know he travels towards London. I know he has the Key to the Temple. The black heart." He whispered softly, his voice hissing dangerously. "I know all that you can tell me. You are slowly proving that your usefulness is fading, Severus. The only reason I allow you to continue in my personal service is for your conceivable skill in the art of Potions. Your abilities to gather needed information have been distinctly lacking of late."

Severus bowed his head in apology. "You have my greatest apologies my Lord, but Dumbledore has been frustratingly tight lipped concerning his plans for the Order lately. This is no excuse, I know my Lord. I lay myself at your feet and your greater judgment for castigation."

A thin sadistic smile crossed the crazed wizards lips and he raised his wand lazily. Severus stiffened waiting for the curse to fall. Suddenly the doors of the chamber flew open with a crash. The Dark Lord stood quickly, his robes sweeping around his body. "What is the meaning of this disturbance? This _insolence_!" he roared wand in hand, red eyes flashing dangerously.

A thin weedy man hurried forward, throwing himself at his master's feet, and gazing up at him with fear stricken eyes.

"My Lord," he gasped for breath. "My greatest apologies but Bellatrix sends word of their hunt!"

Voldemort strode forwards at once. Grabbing the man cowering before him by his throat he hoisted him up into the air. Bringing their faces close together his eyes flared intensely.

"_Where is Potter_?" he hissed, hate pouring from every particle of the man. The Death-eater gasped, clawing at his throat. Voldemorts long pale fingers tightened, digging into the flesh. A thin trickle of blood ran down his neck. "WHERE!" he snarled.

"Making his way to London!" he gasped. "Bellatrix reports his last location just outside – Hemingway!" He was released from the powerful grip and fell to the floor coughing and clutching his throat. "P-potter was sighted by one of your informants mere minutes ago, entering Kingstown. They await your instruction, my Lord. . . "

Voldemort smiled and swept away from the asphyxiating man and waved his hand at the wall to his far left. Immediately the thick black curtains fell away revealing dozens of different mirrors. He drew a dagger from the folds of his long black robes. Slicing it quickly across his palm he peered into the largest of the looking glasses as the blood welled in his palm. "_Show me the boy." _He ordered and smeared his bloody hand over the glass. The blood slowly ran down the surface of the mirror, dripping tracks of red down the reflection of his pale serpentine face.

Slowly the face shimmered and changed. Eyes the colour of the killing curse stared back at him before glancing away again, unaware they were being watched. Through strands of silken ebony hair the curse scar that the Dark Lord had left in his attempt at murder, was visible. Each mirror portrayed the same image at a different angle. Spidery fingers traced the young mans face, caressing the image's cheek and tracing his strong jaw line.

Blood from his still bleeding hand smeared itself across the boy's young features. The Dark Lords Faithful watched silently. Each knew some fraction of the prophecy. _The one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord. _Was this boy the key to destroying the greatest Dark Wizard in a century? Each knew of the Dark Lords obsession that went by the name of Harry Potter. Each knew from their masters ranting that the boy was growing in power. Power that would soon rival his adversary's. Each knew that the boy could not be allowed to continue on the way he was. Such power in one so young was unheard of. It was dangerous. Potter was dangerous. And he was growing up. As a child he had been merely an annoyance, a thorn in the side of the pure blood fanatics. But a child he was no more. He was fast growing into a man, and a dangerous opponent. They had all heard rumours of the boy's battles, against their Master and His cause. Many had seen for themselves during the Masters rebirth and at the encounter at the Ministry mere weeks ago. The boy had proven himself worthy in battle and some of the elders of the Faithful had come to respect him for it. They would still have no problem slitting his throat from ear to ear but they still recognized him for what he was fast becoming for all his youth.

Voldemort stepped backwards studying the mirrors that held the image of his adversary. For over fifteen years he had hunted this boy. And now the end was in sight. He smiled coldly. The teenager leapt down the stairs of the building two at a time. A rucksack was hooked over his shoulder as he hurried through the crowd blending into the background of the large shopping complex with ease. Voldemort narrowed his eyes. The boy would have made a good Death-eater had it not been for the child's rather annoying habit of foiling his plans at every turn. A spy most definitely if he'd ever seen one. The boy gained trust easily and could move about unseen despite his fame. It was disappointing that Voldemort hadn't managed to turn Potter to his way of thinking all those years ago when he had fought the boy for the Philosophers stone. By now, the boy would have been trained in all aspects of the Dark Arts and would have stood at his Masters right hand side in place of Malfoy who was currently in Azkaban, disappointing Voldemort greatly once again.

The serpent like face of the Dark Lord broke out into a satisfied smirk as the child passed a sign. Holding up a hand he paused the mirrors movements. _Hennessy Shopping Centre._ "There . . ." he whispered. "You know where he is, go now and rally Bellatrix and the others. Hurry, he will not stay put for long. Within ten minutes he will be gone from here." When he heard nothing but his followers harsh breathing behind him he whipped around furiously. "_GO_!" he screamed, robes whipping around his tall form.

The Death-eater ran from the room still clasping his bleeding throat. Severus watched all this with bated breath. "_Get out all of you_!" screamed the incensed wizard. Severus didn't need to be told twice and quickly got to his feet bowing deeply before sweeping back to the heavy doors. The other Death-eaters all scampered out of the room quickly.

"Severus." The spy paused at the doorway and looked back at his Master. He still stood before the wall of mirrors watching every move that Potter made. Blood dripped from his lacerated hand to pool on the stone floor. He turned his gaze from the boy's image and met Severus' eyes. "Finish the potion." He ordered coldly.

Severus nodded. "Yes my Lord." The image of Harry Potter faded as Severus took one last look at the room before closing the door behind him, leaving the Dark Lord alone with a bloodstained mirror.

O

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Harry hurried through the crowd that filled the large shopping centre in which he was currently trying to navigate his way around. The monstrous arcade was huge. Twelve levels, over two hundred shops, and a large food court covering the ground floor. Light flooded the complex from the glass roof that opened to the heavens letting light flood all the way down to the food court. Large banners, advertising different stores and appliances, fluttered in the breeze the air-conditioner created, and there were fountains, benches and potted palm trees everywhere. The entire place was filled with people.

He pushed his way past a group of teenage girls and jogged a little faster. He wasn't sure if the crowds were an advantage or nuisance. He could lose himself easily here, but it was impossible for him to be aware of everything going on around him. It was times like this when he wished he had Ron and Hermione by his side. Someone to watch his back while he watched their's.

His eyes darted around nervously. Where was it? Did this town even have one? Harry shook his head slightly to clear his mind of negative thoughts. Of course they would have one. Every reasonably sized town in England had a Gateway and every major city out of the country would have three. Bailey had made sure Harry knew of the signs to lead to the Gateways when he was ten years old. Standing on tiptoes he looked over the heads of the crowd in front of him, staring around wildly. There!

Grinning, he hurried through the throng of busy shoppers and past a large group of French tourists being led around by a guide and snapping photographs of everything in sight. Finally he reached the information booth and waited behind a large red haired woman who was asking for the whereabouts of the Lingerie section. Harry gave a little shudder as the woman hurried away muttering to herself about leopard print bikinis. The pretty brunette at the counter turned to Harry.

"Hello, can I help you with anything?" Harry glanced at her nametag. Rachael.

"There is something you could help me with," he said picking up the pen that sat on the desk of the booth and overturned a pamphlet about The Annual Kingstown Festival of Performing Arts. He quickly drew a triangle with a cross through the centre and turned it towards the girl. Her smile vanished immediately and she glanced up to his face, her eyes widening as she noticed the lightning bolt scar across his forehead, partly obscured by his messy hair.

"Harry Potter?" she whispered. Harry gave a quick nod.

"This needs to be quick. There are people after me and I need sanctuary. I need you to act completely normal. There may be someone here watching me."

She nodded quickly her mask of friendly information booth attendant snapping back into place. "Bailey has us all on the lookout for you. You're to go straight to him once you go through the Gate. The Prophet hit this morning with the story of your disappearance and everything has gone to hell. Bailey is hopping mad. Ordered Jackson's head on a plate for closing the Gateway in Surrey last summer. Said you could've gone through there straight to the Monastery." She said softly as she pretended to rummage through a pile of pamphlets on the desk, showing them to Harry one by one. "The nearest Gateway is in the basement of the building. Third door to your left, then inside the supply cupboard. You know the password?" she asked picking up several pamphlets and putting them inside a small paper bag.

"Of course." Said Harry his smile in place as the group of tourists walked past chatting in French as they snapped photographs of the information booth and the fountain not far from where Harry was standing. He turned his body slightly keeping his back to the people passing by.

"You're armed?" asked Rachael smiling nicely as she turned and picked several maps from the display behind her and placed those inside the bag as well.

"Yes." Harry said curtly nodding his head. "What does old Bailey want?"

"To talk to you. I dunno what about." She glanced around quickly. "There's been a rise in Dark activity the past few days. Death-eaters all over the place. 'Course we can't _do_ anything about it. Higher orders and all. You shouldn't need it but just in case, there's a little gift from one of the Lost to another." She pushed the paper bag towards Harry and he noticed the large bulge inside it.

Harry smiled. "Thanks." He said scooping up the paper bag. "Can you contact Bailey for me and tell him I'm on my way. I'll need the Gateway to be closed and sealed after I go through. Just in case."

Rachael nodded smiling pleasantly as she turned to the computer next to her. Harry pretended to flick through a travel guide on the bench top. Her fingers danced over the keyboard. Harry checked his watch. He'd been here too long. Staying in one place was not a good idea. Not with Voldemort tracking his every move.

"Done." Said Rachael she frowned looking over Harry's shoulder. Her eyes suddenly widened. "Don't turn around." She whispered. "Get out of here now. That's one of the Dark Lords informants. I don't think he's seen you, but get going now!"

Harry nodded to the girl and walked away into the crowd. He quickened his pace, passing the escalators leading down to the sixth level, just as he heard a cracking sound come from behind him. He whipped around. A lot of the muggles screamed, thinking there was a gunman in the crowd and hit the floor, throwing their arms over their heads. Harry stayed upright his eyes widening at the sight of six robed and masked figures standing not two hundred metres away. _Shit_.

"**_Potter_**!" screamed Bellatrix levelling her wand at him and screaming a curse Harry didn't recognize. Harry flung himself to the ground as the wall behind him exploded in a blast of blue flames. The muggles started screaming again and running for cover. Four more curses of blue flame hit the wall behind him, one hitting a few feet in front of him and blasting him across the room. He landed hard on his side and gasped for breath. He looked up to see Bellatrix running at him, wand raised and a snarling grin on her face. Once again she was the only unmasked Death-eater.

_Oh. Shit. _

Scrambling to his feet, Harry ran through the crowd towards the edge of the levels balcony and threw himself over the edge just as a purple streak of light cut through the air where he had been a moment before. Grabbing the nearest banner as he fell he swung himself onto a lower level hitting the ground on all fours. There were more cracking noises and Harry looked up to see three more Death-eaters appearing at the foot of the escalators. Brandishing their wands at the teenager crouched on the floor they all cast the same curse. Silver arrows hit the wall and floor behind him, leaving holes and scorch marks in the plaster and blowing tiles apart. Harry leapt to his feet and sprinted as fast as he could towards the nearest bench and dove behind it. Their curses pelted into the old bench, chipping off fragments of wood and sending them flying into the air.

Harry unsheathed his wand and panting hard scanned the room the best he could from his position. He had to get to the basement. Remembering Rachael's gift he opened the paper bag and found what appeared to be half a dozen eggs all with a red triangle printed on them with a cross through the middle. Harry grinned and pulled one out of the bag clutching it tightly in his fist.

As soon as there was a pause in the curses he jumped to his feet, threw the egg as hard as he could at the three Death-eaters and ducked for cover again. A huge explosion rocked the room sending all three Death-eaters flying. Harry threw himself out from behind the bench and ran for the escalators. The room was filled with smoke and a fire was quickly spreading across the floor. Racing through the rubble that littered the room Harry chucked another egg over his shoulder for good measure and ran down the ruined escalator. The explosion tore through the level and Harry was thrown forward onto his front, hitting the ground hard and sliding forward through the dust and rock fragments. He glanced behind him to make sure he couldn't be followed down the escalators and found them blocked with wreckage. Breathing hard he picked himself up off the ground and ran for the elevators.

The sprinkler system suddenly started up as he reached the lifts and water began raining down, quickly soaking the teenager's hair and clothes. A small sign above the metal doors was flashing. _In case of fire do not use Lifts. _Harry pulled out the dagger from his jacket sleeve and pried it between the doors. Water ran down his back and trickled down his face. His sneakers were soaked through as the water continued to rain down. He could hear people yelling to each other from above him. They didn't know where he was yet, but they would soon. Harry groaned, barring his teeth as he levered the doors with the knife. His arms strained and he felt the skin on his left palm break open and begin to bleed. Finally the doors screeched loudly as they opened an inch and he used his fingers to pry them apart. He cried out as they finally gave way and slid open the rest of the way. He panted looking into the empty shaft. A big black pit. He frowned and looked up. He could see the bottom of the elevator hanging several floors above him. The elevator was currently on level ten. "Nothing is ever easy is it?" Harry looked down the shaft and gulped. "Just like sliding down the drainpipe." He told himself as he took off his coat and winded it around the thick cable. He didn't convince himself. A yell of "There he is!" however, forced him to take the leap.

"Oh _Shiiittttt_!" yelled Harry as he slid quickly down the swinging cable. He glanced upwards and could see the patch of light from the sixth level. Several heads were craning around the doorway to look down the shaft after him. The ground was getting much closer. He tightened his grip, causing himself to slow down. His arms screamed in protest as he finally came to a stop a few feet from the bottom and fell the last couple of metres to land on his back on the ground. The wind was knocked out of him and he gasped a few times trying to regain his breath. "Ow . . ." he moaned softly. Far above him he could hear the Death-eaters arguing.

"Well what are you waiting for? Go after him!"

"Why do _I_ have to go down there? I'm not going down there! Why don't _you_ go down there?"

"Because I outrank you, and there's no way in hell _I'm_ going down there!"

Harry smirked and gingerly sat up. He pressed the emergency button and the doors of the shaft slid open. Harry stepped outside wand raised and a curse ready on his lips. He looked around eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. He was in the basement car park. The sprinklers were on down here as well and his sneakers squelched as he stepped forward on the wet concrete floor, slipping his jacket through the strap of his bag to secure it. Confident he was alone in the darkness. Harry pulled out the last four eggs and pricked one with his dagger, watching as a thin yellow liquid bubbled up out of it. He turned back to the shaft carefully placing the eggs on the floor. The sickly yellow liquid oozed out of the egg, slowly spreading over the bottom of the shaft. Carefully, he closed the doors. The liquid inside the eggs was highly explosive. A mix of several potions one of Baileys men had been toying with in the lab several years ago. It reacted to either heat or touch. Throwing them hard usually meant a successful explosion when injected inside the hollow eggshells. But the potion by itself needed very little to detonate. A change of temperature by a few degrees or, oh, lets say a Death-eater stepping on it, would be all that was needed to create a sizeable blast.

Harry smirked and turned hurrying away from the shafts. He passed one door. Two doors. He smiled as he reached the third and opened the door. He closed it carefully behind him and crossed the room quickly to throw open the steel cupboard marked with a red cross. Harry searched through the cupboard pushing boxes and jars out the way until his fingers touched the back of the cupboard. He felt along until he found what he was looking for. A red triangle with a cross through the centre burnt into the steel. He pressed it hard and felt it shift beneath his fingers. "Zuflucht vor der vermisst." He whispered clearly. The symbol lit up blue and Harry placed the boxes back in front of it again before closing the door. He counted to five and turned the handle again. Blue light flooded the room. Harry set his mouth in a thin line and stepped through the door. He closed it behind him just as he heard an explosion from the elevator shaft rock the building.

O

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Kingsley Shacklebolt was not in a good mood. In fact, he was in a very bad mood. The reason he was in a very bad mood was obvious to all around him. That is, obvious to all except the reporters who were firing question after question at the increasingly annoyed Auror. No the reporters were in a very good mood, completely oblivious to the cold stare Kingsley was fixing them as he tried to force his way through the Atrium of the Ministry. The reason of the Head Auror's bad mood and the Press' rather excitable mood was because Fudge had discovered Harry missing after the events at Little Whinging a few day's ago and had informed the public of the fact. Harry's face had been splashed across every wizarding newspaper in Europe within an hour of Fudges report that Harry Potter, Boy-who-lived and Saviour of the First War, was missing after a Death-eater raid at his summer home, and was now presumed captured or dead. Kingsley growled low in his throat as the next wave of reporters shouted question after question at him.

"Is it true that Harry Potter was kidnapped by the Dark Lord?"

"Have you located Potter yet?"

"Mr Shacklebolt is it true you've linked the murders of two muggles outside of Hemingway, to Potter's disappearance?"

"Is the Order of the Phoenix working with the Ministry to find the Boy-who-lived?"

"What is Dumbledore doing about the situation?"

"You! Get out of my way – move you fat lump of lard! – Mr Shacklebolt! Mr Shacklebolt!"

Kingsley looked up at the voice. It sounded very familiar . . .

"Mr Shacklebolt, Rita Skeeter, freelance reporter. Can you answer a few questions for me please?"

Skeeter. Damn. "I'm sorry but the Ministry cannot give out information on a case such as this." Kingsley said gruffly.

"But Mr Shacklebolt – please!" Rita fought through the crowd and grabbed Kingsleys arm, her red talons digging into his flesh. "Please," she said lowering her voice so only Kingsley could hear her. "I know the kid, I just want to know if he's alive."

Kingsley paused for a minute outside the Lift. The sincerity in her eyes was unheard of in the press. He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the elevator with him as the doors clanged open.

The press outside the Lift were still yelling at him as the doors slid shut and the Lift began to descend. Kingsley looked at the woman. She was wearing a bright green pencil-skirt and white blouse with matching green robes and a crocodile handbag hanging off her arm.

"You know Harry?" he asked. She readjusted her extravagant glasses and nodded.

"He's done several interviews with me. Met him a year and a half ago. He's a good kid, even if he is a devious little snot."

Kingsley raised his thick eyebrows at her. She shrugged. "He's been blackmailing me. Says until I can write a story without fabricating most of it, I'm his bitch. Well, he didn't use those words exactly but you get the gist of it. I step one toe out of line and he jars me."

"Isn't the term 'before he _cans_ me'?" asked Kingsley raising his eyebrows again.

"Er – um . . . _yeah_ . . ." said Rita glancing around nervously. "Look you have my word that I 'm not going to print what you tell me. See if I do _that_ Potters annoying, bushy haired friend will swoop down on me and then I'm roach food."

"Hermione Granger?" asked Kingsley with a frown.

Rita nodded. "That's the one. Should've been put in Slytherin if you ask me. Crafty little bitch." She muttered quietly to herself. "Last time I saw those two was when Harry sat for that interview about the night You-know-who came back. He bought me a drink. If I recall correctly he was having relationship problems with some girl in Ravenclaw. Of course, Granger wouldn't let me write about _that_! Bad enough I did that last interview without payment when it was worth thousands of Galleons. Do you know how much Lovegood got from the Daily Prophet for that interview? Five thousand Galleons! What did I get? A free drink. An absolute outrage that's what it is." She sighed. "Can you just tell me if the brat's ok? Please? I need to know."

Kingsley stared at her for a moment before sighing loudly.

"We don't know if he's ok or not. We don't even know where he _is_. And now with the press jumping all over it, it's going to be twice as hard to find him. Potter knows Voldemort better then any living being in existence. Potter will know where He will search for him and he'll try to keep away from the places he'll be noticed most. We've got nothing to worry about as long as Potter keeps out of sight. But now his fucking picture is on every front page in the country, people are going to be on the lookout for him. This is what Dumbledore was most afraid of." Kingsley ran his hand over his gleaming scalp. "We had orders from the Headmaster not to go looking for Harry, to let him come to us. Now we'll have every two-bit crook in the country looking for him. Do you know what Voldemort will give to have that boy bought to him alive?"

Kingsley shook his head and scowled. "If I see any of this in the papers I will go to Hermione myself and have her tell me what they're covering for you. Understand?"

Rita nodded dumbly. The Lift came to a stop and the doors clanged open. Several memos flew out over their heads as they stepped into the hallway. "You should use the Floo to get out of here. You'll be mobbed if you go back up to the Atrium. You can use my fireplace."

"Alright." The woman said quietly and fell into step behind him.

A second later Kingsley was almost knocked over when a young Auror rounded the corner running smack into the large black man.

"Sir, thank Merlin you're here! The alarms are going off. Dark activity in Kingstown. Large-scale attack underway at Hennessey Shopping Centre. Most of the sixth floor is up in flames. There are muggles swarming everywhere." He paused. "They're saying that a group of men and women in black cloaks were after a dark haired teenager." He added meaningfully.

Kingsley nodded. "I want a team of our best clean up crews down there, as well as forensics. Contact Madame Bones, I want everything out of Fudges jurisdiction. If he so much as says one word about this to the public I will have him charged for endangerment. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. Would you like me to assemble the aurors, sir?"

"That won't be necessary. The Order of the Phoenix will be handling this operation."

"Yes, sir." Nodded the Auror and hurried off to assemble the men they needed.

Rita watched everything with wide eyes. Her fingers twitched towards her bag where her faithful quick-quotes quill was. Oh Merlin how she wanted to write everything down! Blasted Granger!

"If you'll excuse me Ms Skeeter, I must get to Kingstown." He swept off down the hall.

Rita stood stunned for a moment before regaining her voice. "Wait! I'm coming with you!" she yelled and took off after him as fast as her six-inch stilettoed heels could take her.

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Remus stared around the wreckage of what was once Hennessey Shopping Centre. Smoke billowed in huge clouds through the sky. The muggle fire trucks were still there gathering up their gear. Several ambulances stood a few hundred feet away treating victims. Thankfully no one had been killed in the attack. Kingsley had contacted HQ two hours ago ordering a team of competent men and women to get the Kingstown immediately. Remus wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt. The material had already become a dirty grey from the ash and dust from the wreaked building; a little more wouldn't hurt. It almost appeared to be lightly snowing; the ash raining down was so thick. It had settled in the rescuers hair and clothes, streaking their faces with dirt. Kingsley had quickly taken control of the situation, making up some sort of police division that the Order members were all masquerading as. Teams of the best aurors in forensics were combing the sixth floor as well as those directly below and above it. Fleur Delacour had apperated in on Kingsley's request to translate for him. A group of French tourists had all taken pictures of the attack as they hid behind a fountain. They had all given perfect descriptions of Harry. Remus sighed and strode forward into the building. Their pictures would prove invaluable in figuring out what went wrong here as soon as they were printed.

Remus walked through the front doors whose glass had shattered in the major explosion that had torn through the elevator shafts. It had originated from the basement, which now had forensics crawling all over it. They had found footprints on the damp floor leading from the shaft into a small storage room in the basement. Then they disappeared. Apparation or a port-key would be the logical guess, but they were dealing with a yet to turn sixteen year old boy. Dumbledore had assured Aurors that Harry had never been trained to apparate or create a port-key, so they were stumped. Mad-eye and Tonks were at this moment taking all security camera footage for evidence. Remus dodged a pile of rubble that had been swept into a heap and walked up the stairs. Arthur had informed him that the stairs usually moved by themselves. Escalators they were called. Remus smiled slightly. Muggles were really quite ingenious.

The only evidence they had that Harry had once walked this same path were the Muggles descriptions of him, and the fact that a large black motorcycle had been found abandoned between two buildings not far away. The bike had been reported stolen by the Dursley family the same day their nephew had gone missing. Remus scowled. They had not informed any of the Order of this fact. Harry's prints had been found on the bike. Remus jogged up the next flight of stairs wishing he could apparate in front of muggles. He was really getting much too old for this, he thought as he panted up the steps.

"Remus over here!" called Helga from across the large room. Remus hurried over to the group of wizards gathered around the open shaft. Smoke still curled up from the depths of the shaft and the walls were blackened from the heat and flames. His feet squelched across the floor, which was covered in an inch of murky water. The fire sprinklers still dripped slightly. The only light in the room came pouring in from the blown out glass ceiling. He crouched down next to Helga as she shifted through a mound of rubble with her wand.

"What have you found?" he asked glancing at the blackened shaft.

Helga gave him a humourless smile. "Human remains." She said turning over a rock with gloved hands to reveal something decidedly gooey.

Remus' lip curled in distaste and looked back at the shaft where several men were throwing long ropes down into the darkness. "I thought it was reported that no one was killed?" he said.

Helga nodded. "No muggles were killed. We've found the remains of two Death-eaters here and we think there's more down there." She said gesturing at the inky blackness of the elevator shaft. She glanced at Remus. "You coming down there with me? We've already got forensics at the bottom. They say they've found something interesting."

Remus looked down the shaft. He could see lights at the bottom and muffled voices carried up to him. Water steadily dripped down the tunnel. Remus raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Why wouldn't I?" he said as he grabbed a rope. Helga grinned at him and grasped the second one, slipping on the harness. "What were the Death-eaters doing down here anyway?" asked Remus as they crawled backwards over the edge and began their descent.

Helga readjusted the light on her helmet and slid a few more metres down into the shaft. "We think Harry escaped down here. Went through the shaft on the sixth floor and escaped out the basement entry. What we don't know is what happened to cause the explosion." They both slid down another ten metres. "We think Harry might be responsible for it."

"What?" said Remus sharply. "Harry couldn't have done this! There's no way he'd have the power, and the Ministry would have picked up on his magic."

Helga shook her head as they descended further into the pit. "Not magic Remus. Hawkins is positive it was an explosive. There's evidence of at least two other explosions that happened minutes before this one. Nothing of this magnitude of course, but still . . ." she shook her head and gave a low whistle. "Your wolf cub is packing some serious hardware."

They finally reached the bottom of the pit and unhooked themselves. The walls were scorched black and crumbling slightly. The doors leading out to the basement car park had been blown open making it look as though a can opener had sliced open the doors. A foot of water covered the bottom of the shaft and wreckage was submerged beneath the murky pool. Several lanterns casting an orange glow illuminated the shaft. A man stood to greet them. He was of average height, though quite thin making him resemble a stick insect. Glasses perched on the edge of his nose, and a helmet similar to what Helga wore, mostly covered his brown hair. A harness strapped to his torso held many interesting looking instruments and his wand was perched behind his ear.

"Hawkins. It's a pleasure to meet you Professor Lupin, Miss Dunning." He nodded politely to the two and held out his hand for first Remus to shake and then Helga. "I can guess what bought the two of you here." He said raising an eyebrow knowingly at Remus.

The aging werewolf frowned. "Was he here or not?" he asked impatiently.

Hawkins beckoned them to follow him through the wreaked doors and out into the basement. Several Men and women were scattered here and there through out the vast underground cavern trading information and using wand beams to search the floor for any evidence that could be useful. "We believe Mr Potter was here, yes." Answered Hawkins as they made their way over to a long table set up with many strange looking pieces of equipment. "We have several eyewitness reports and video feed should confirm it. We also have traces of blood that we are sure is his. It matches the Potter genes anyway. And with young Harry being the last of the Potter line . . ."

Remus gritted his teeth and frowned. "You think he was injured?" he asked worriedly.

The man nodded. "It's what evidence suggests. There is a blood splatter near the far wall of the seventh floor where the wall was practically blasted apart by several Dark curses. More in the shaft, though that is harder to determine, as there are three different wizards blood in the water." He grinned and sent Remus a dark look. "Two men were in the shaft when the explosive detonated. Most likely Death-eaters. Mr Potters fingerprints, footprints, blood and magical signature were all found outside the shaft so it's a safe bet he is very much alive and survived the blast." He grinned toothily. "I would love to know how he managed the explosion. Ingenious! None of our people can determine what was used. All we've managed to find is traces of egg shells of all things!"

Remus glanced at Helga as they followed the tech-mage over to the end of the table where a white haired man was pouring over a microscope and making notes on a chart. "Ah, Hawkins. There you are. Do you have anything else for me?" For a man of his obvious age the elderly man seemed spirited. His hand was steady as he wrote and his bright blue eyes reminded Remus oddly of Dumbledore. His white hair resembled that of a mad scientist, and his face was smooth except for the lines of age etched around his eyes and standing out prominently from his forehead.

Hawkins grinned. "Not just yet Mr Bismouth. Got some people here who want to ask some questions about what caused the blast and where the kid went to. I'll leave you to it?"

"Of course, of course." Spoke the old man, shooing Hawkins away. "Go find me some more traces of the explosive. It really is quite fascinating." He added turning to Remus and Helga. His eyes paused on Remus for a moment and saddened. "Oh, you poor boy." He whispered. "The curse of the bite at such a young age . . ."

Remus swallowed, his amber eyes widening. "How did – "

"I know many things Mr Lupin." Said Bismouth as he slowly walked around the table to offer his hand to the ex-professor. "The answers are very persistent. They will show themselves to me without my seeking them out."

Remus nodded grasping the man's hand for a moment. "You're a soul searcher?"

The man nodded slowly keeping hold of Remus' hand. His clear blue eyes searched the werewolf's. "You're searching for your cub. Yours in everything but blood and name. He is the last of true pack, the last of the good years, the years of light."

His grip on Remus' hand was becoming painful. His grizzled old face drew closer to Remus' and he pressed his cheek to the younger man's and whispered softly, "_You search for the Dark Lords equal_."

Remus pulled back quickly, wrenching his hand free. Shock was evident on his face as he stepped backwards quickly, almost bumping into Helga. There eyes remained locked and the old man nodded slowly.

"I know what he is." He said softly. "The blood was enough to tell me that. Blood is one of the only pure substances left on the planet. It cannot tell a lie. I saw the boy's power in the blood and it told me what he is. Just like your eyes told me what you are. I see into the souls and hearts of men and demons. The eyes are the windows into the soul, and the blood is what sustains the heart. I can see into that child's heart and it is pure and without taint from the darkness. No matter how many times the Darkness has touched his soul his heart remains just as it always was. Pure, strong . . . with such need for love it physically hurts. It speaks the truth of what he is. His equal, yet His opposite in so many ways." He closed his eyes and tilted his face upwards. "He is in a safe place . . . Sleeping at the moment. Though where I do not know. Heavily warded . . . protected. There is Darkness here but the Light in their hearts overcomes the shadow." He nodded slowly to himself again and smiled before opening his eyes and looking into Remus'. "Your cub is quite a marvellous young man. He has suffered so much yet still stays strong. He is fiery; his spirit will never be tamed. He is wildness and freedom personified. A wild phoenix who refuses to be caged. I have never felt such determination, such passion in so young a soul. I would very much like to meet young Harry Potter when he returns. "

Remus watched as the old man turned away and went back around the table to check a chart and scribble another few points down on paper. He glanced over at Helga to find her looking just as flabbergasted as he was feeling.

"What do you mean by that? The Dark Lords equal?" asked Remus as he approached the table watching as the soul searcher continued to peek into the microscope.

The man continued to work without looking up at the werewolf and his companion. "I know only what the blood knows." He said as he replaced a slide from the microscope with a fresh specimen to examine. "I would need the child present here to determine exactly what is imprinted on his soul, his true destiny. All I can see is a power fuelled by love and a Child of Prophecy. He is the Dark Lords equal in every way but for that one seemingly small detail. Mr Potter's power, though darkened by shadow at times, is stimulated by his needs, his wants . . . his pure emotions. I doubt very much that this child has ever hated in his entire life. His heart is too pure." He turned slightly to scribble something on parchment and finally looked up to meet Remus' eyes. "I hope you realise what he is Mr Lupin. What the future holds for that boy is pain and heartache. His past was nothing compared to what lays ahead of him. There will be a great battle soon. The spirits are restless and the fates have chosen that boy to bear the front of their war before all others. Ah –" he said seeing Remus' look of anger. "I see you don't agree. You are wrong Mr Lupin. That boy is a Child of Prophecy. Despite all the help and support you may give him, no matter how you try to protect him from the things that go bump in the night, know this: He alone will stand against the forces of Darkness in the fight against Riddle. He alone will have the power to defeat the Darkest Sorcerer in over five hundred years. He alone will bind the Darkness."

He leant closer to Remus across the table, one hand reaching out to grab his arm. His twinkling blue eyes had gone cold and icy as he whispered softly. "You cannot stop fate Mr Lupin. It is the will of the gods. You can however, bend fate to work in your favour." He added meaningfully before he let go of Remus' arm and turned away to look at Helga.

"Albus sent you here for a reason of course." Bismouth said, his voice returning to normal and his eyes regaining their spark of life. "I have little to tell you. All I am sure of is that Mr Potter is responsible for the explosions, the fire, and of course the deaths of four Death-eaters." He looked back into the microscope. "I believe the explosive was a mix of quite a few volatile potions with several spells attached somehow. Most likely to whatever contained the potions . . ." he trailed off as he peered into the microscope again. "I know very little just yet. I will contact Albus when I've had the chance to examine this in my lab . . . I may need a larger sample . . ."

"Er . . . yes." Said Helga as she watched the elderly man appraisingly. "Of course sir. Thank-you for all your time."

The man ignored her returning to scribbling notes down on his parchment. Remus stared at him for a moment before grabbing Helga's arm and pulling her away, back to the shaft.

He had to think about things. The Dark Lords equal? What was that supposed to mean? Remus frowned and walked Helga away from the soul searcher. He had some research to do when they finished here. Harry was a Child of Prophecy. The term sounded familiar but Remus would need to know exactly what it was. There were other questions that needed answering as well. Where in the world had Harry gotten explosives? Remus would have to check the video camera footage to be sure. Harry wouldn't carry weapons. Would he? Remus wasn't sure anymore.

The child he had come to know nearly three years ago was disappearing. He had seen it last year and now . . . Remus sighed. The boy was growing up fast. Much too fast. A child his age should be worried about girls, homework and Quidditch. Instead Harry was thrown into one battle after another. And worse still it was becoming normal to the boy. What was another murder attempt? What was another fight, another enemy, another stolen life . . .

If they didn't watch themselves Harry would be torn away from the light. The aging werewolf stepped back into the shaft and groaned as his shoes sunk into the sludgy black water. Helga smirked at him. "What was all that about?" she asked as she strapped herself back into the harness, gesturing back over her shoulder at the old man still tinkering with his microscope slides.

Remus shook his head, glancing up the damp gloomy shaft. Water dripped down the blackened walls and a square of light opened several floors above them. "I don't know." He said. "But I know where I can find out."

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A/N: Once again soooooo sorry this took so long to get out! Feedback would be wonderful and it might motivate me to write more and faster. (Did everyone catch that not so subtle hint?) I would also like to see how many people from TED are reading TTD. Just something I'm interested in. I apologize once more to my readers and I swear I'll try my hardest to get a chapter out as soon as possible. I may focus more on TED as it seems more popular at the moment, but I'll see where my muse takes me.

_Zuflucht vor der vermisst_ – German for: _Sanctuary for the Lost_. (Lol, me displaying my lack of German skills – ich kann nicht sprechen Deutsch!)

Thankyou all for being so patient!

**Responses!**

**Ksai**: I don't like to think of this as a Harry Power Fic. He won't be all-powerful like many fics portray him. Harry will be powerful but he will have to struggle through that power. Don't worry I'm not putting slash into either of the fics I'm circulating at the moment, although I am writing one at the moment whenever I run out of enthusiasm for TTD and TED.

**Chaseme720**: hi long time no see! Thanks for the support, I've had work piled onto me at school and have barely had time to sleep over the past two months. No excuse for how long this chapter has taken to get out, I know … it won't be a Harry/Draco, though I am currently writing something on them. I want to have the plot outlined properly though before I post it. I think that's why this story has been so hard to get out; I'm just going wherever my muse takes me.  thanks for your review!

**Saetan**: WOW! You've thought a lot about this! Yes, Harry was stupid leaving his shirt behind, but you must remember that he is just a kid and he makes mistakes. Sanctuary will be a mix of magic and muggle, with both societies contributing to the protection of the Lost that reside within its walls. A lot of the money from Harry spent on Sanctuary goes into research and development for weaponry and security. Hmmm … I'm undecided over whether magic is part of the body or the soul. I don't believe it could be ripped away and when Crouch Jnr had his soul sucked out by the dementor it was never established whether his magic had been taken along with it or not. Very interesting idea about raising capitol. Although Sanctuary does not have a diamond generator they do have monetary dealings with both the muggle and wizarding worlds, but it is all very under the radar, very hush-hush, as they do not want attention drawn to them. Thank-you so much for your review, I hope I've answered all of your questions. Please let me know more about your thoughts concerning my fic!

**fhippogrif**: thankyou, I've always wondered what Remus thought when he re-met Harry on the train third year. It would have to have been a shock to the system. Don't worry - not slash. I enjoyed creating Sanctuary and now there's a fair bit of descriptive writing for me to do to show exactly what it looks like. Keep reviewing! 

**Surarrin**: Sorry, it's been months! I hope I still have some readers left it's been so long!

**bandgsecurtiyaw**: sorry you had to wait so long. Let me know what you thought of this chapter!

**Snickers**: I like you, your review made me laugh, and got me typing when I realised that many people may think this fic had been abandoned. But I'm BACK! Please keep reviewing, I love hearing from my reviewers!

**Japanese-jew**: yes I think drarry is often OOC as well – finding a fic that sticks to canon is really hard especially after HBP. You read my mind. I'm debating whether to insert my own female character as a romantic interest, inserting a canon female character whom I have recently fallen in love with when paired with Harry, or leaving Harry single. Tell me what you think – in a review! 

Love you all,

Jellylegs xoxo


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